Happily After? New Beginnings
by Lucinda
Summary: Ororo attempts to help Logan heal, and possibly find a new future with her.  Fourth in the Happily After? series.
1. parts 1 to 5

author: Lucinda

rating: pg 13

Fourth story in the 'Happily After?' series.

main characters are Ororo, Logan, and Remy.

This fic contains past tense Logan/Marie, past tense Warren/Marie, and developing Logan/Ororo

disclaimer: I own nobody from the X-Men. Any characters that you recognize belong to the makers of the X-men movie and/or Marvel comics.

distribution: ask first.

Notes: Primarily movie-verse, Post X1 and ignoring X2 and X3, using some comics background for various characters. This series was began in response to a challenge that called for initial Logan/Marie, a breakup, and evntual Logan/Ororo. This story-arc does not treat Wolverine: Origins as part of the history and backstory of this Logan.

.HA-NB..HA-NB..

Ororo was convinced that Logan needed someone to help him with his emotional pain. Someone to help him heal the gaping wounds to his heart and spirit that Marie had left. Seeing the aftermath, she felt desperately sorry that she had ever wished to see proof that her feelings that Marie wasn't right for Logan was accurate. Not when that proof was seeing him in such horrible misery.

He wasn't even showing the agony in any obvious way. He hadn't shown the slightest hint of the pain he must have been in from being charred. She knew it had to have caused him terrible pain, there had been blisters, and she had thought that she had seen a glint of silvery bone one place, but she could not be certain. From what they had seen before he went to find his past, and before she went to New Orleans, his healing factor did nothing to stop or lessen pain. He wasn't showing his emotional pain in obvious ways either. He didn't socialize with anyone now, instead he would find somewhere to sit alone, and he would just...watch. He tended to watch the forest, but sometimes he watched the people instead.

He was short tempered, and cranky, but there was no emotion in his eyes. They were always the pale blue of a winter sky, and showed nothing. No anger, no sorrow, no emotion.

She didn't think the aloneness would help him heal. But how could she help him if he wouldn't let anyone touch his heart? She had the beginnings of a plan, and had decided to discuss it with Remy. After all, he had spent a good deal of time reading people and judging their reaction. Ororo suspected that he had some sort of telepathic or empathic ability, but he was rather reluctant to discuss his powers.

"Remy? Could I speak to you for a moment?" She spoke softly, trying to get his attention. He was currently sitting with some of the other young men of the school, watching a game of football on television.

He grinned at her, and left the couch walking over to her. The tone of his words was light, flirtatious. "Who am I to deny a lovely lady my company? Lead the way, an' I shall follow."

They walked into the garden, glancing at the lovely flowers. Ororo settled gracefully on one of the grey stone benches, and Remy lounged on another, his pose resembling a large cat. "Remy be thinking this has to do with more than wanting to see my handsome face. You bring me out here so nobody gonna listen to us?"

Ororo smiled faintly. "Yes. Let no one say you are entirely inobservant. I want to try to help Logan."

Remy winced. "He definitely needs some help. I really don' think he's just gonna go talk to a shrink though. Not too likely that he'd just open up to most of the people here either. I been keeping an eye on him. He feels like Marie cheated on him, no idea why. So, he felt betrayed by her, n' then everyone took her side, or Warren's side, and decided that he's the bad guy in all this. He figures that everyone who was here knew he an' Marie were involved. The fact that nobody tried to stop Marie and Warren from nothing or tell him when he got back... dat was like a slap in the face to him. Told him that none of the people here think he's good enough for Marie, none of them respect him enough to tell him."

Remy paused, gathering his thoughts after such a listing of his observations. He plucked a blade of grass, chewed it thoughtfully for a moment. "He's not gonna talk just because someone asks him to. Only person here he might have any trust left for is you. Don't think he's much given to talking anyhow."

Ororo nodded slightly. She could understand Logan no longer trusting the people that had stood by while his girlfriend took another as her lover. "The Professor has asked that I make certain that you and Clarice have some measure of defense training. Sufficient that you could defend yourself in a fight. However, my own skills at physical combat are... not the best. I was thinking perhaps Logan could help make certain that you and Clarice had adequate training. I rather suspect that you know more than a few tricks along that line already, but... I was hoping that you would help me. I can think of no other area that he would readily accept people."

Remy looked at her, his eyes thoughtful. "It's Logan, isn't it? De guy you mentioned in N'Awlins that didn't know?" Seeing her nod, he sighed. "Figures. The guy you want is the one with the most twisted up insides I've ever ran into... If he's willing, I can work with him on making sure I can do this. Sounds like he be the only one able to give me a good workout anyhow. Might want to give Clarrie a bit more time to get used to the idea, he might seem a bit scary to her."

Ororo smiled, delighted that Remy would help her with this effort. "I will go speak to him about this. Now, I must only hope he will agree."

Ororo found Logan after a bit of searching. He was sitting by the lake, skipping small stones across the surface of the water. He was wearing pair of faded blue jeans, and a worn tee shirt with the name and logo of a hockey team. He looked up at her arrival.

"Logan, I was looking for you. I had a favor to ask of you. As you might know, I brought two new students with me when I returned from New Orleans. The Professor has said that they must both be adequately trained in self defense, but my hand to hand combat skills are... perhaps not the best. I was hoping that you could help? Perhaps you could teach them? I have the feeling that Remy would know a bit more than Clarice..." She let her voice trail off slightly. He was looking at her, his eyes still emotionless, unreadable

"Remy's the one with the red eyes, right? And Clarice is the jumpy purple girl? Yeah, different skill levels is right. I guess I can help with them, not like I have anything better to do now." His voice was level, showing no emotion.

Ororo was happy that he had agreed to help her. It wasn't the keys to his heart, or a declaration of passion, but it was a step towards contact, towards dealing with people again. It was the beginning of the road to recovery for him, even if he didn't know it yet. "Thank you, Logan. This means a great deal to me. Shall we join you in the morning for a run?"

end part 1.

Marie had been trying to find an excuse to talk to the new guy, Remy, all day. He was certainly good looking, and she'd heard him answer a few questions from somebody earlier about New Orleans, and she'd decide that he had a great voice and a charming accent. Finally, she found him in the garden, watching water droplets from the fountain make patterns on the surface of the pool, the water glittering in the sunlight. He was wearing a pair of sunglasses.

"Hey there. I'm Marie. I thought I'd come over an' say hello."

Remy looked up at her, and she could see over the tops of his sunglasses to his eyes. They were unusual, red on black. Very definitely mutant eyes. He looked at her for a few seconds before he answered. "H'lo then. Don' know if you heard, but I'm Remy."

She smiled at him, one hand tucking her hair behind her ear as she sat on the edge of the fountain. "Would you maybe like to go out for coffee or a movie sometime?"

Remy blinked, thinking over everything he'd heard about this young woman. She was certainly pretty, there was no arguing that. But... when he'd met Stormy in N'Awlins last month, she had said that Marie was very involved with that Logan fellow. Then, when he got here, the whole place was full of how Logan had nearly killed her boyfriend Warren. Apparently, in the slightly more than a month that Stormy had been gone, Marie had separated from Logan, had an affair with Warren, and was now no longer seeing either of them. There was also a good deal of confusion over the detail on exactly how and why she had separated from Logan.

"Don' think so. Remy's heard some interesting things 'bout your dating style. I've got plenty of exes, still got some pictures. Wouldn't want someone to see a picture of somethin' that's over and done wit' and decide to get a new boyfriend over it. Thanks, but no."

That said, Remy stood up, and walked back towards the mansion. He would have to try to prepare himself for a morning run with the grumpy Logan, who would be in charge of determining if he was 'sufficient' in self defense.

Meanwhile, Clarice had found Ororo, who was in the greenhouse.

"Ororo? Or maybe I should call you Miss Munroe... um I was wondering how I could learn more about a person in the history book." Clarice's words pulled Ororo from her thoughts as she watered the orchids.

"Of course." They walked over to a small bench, and sat down.

Clarice opened her history book to the page with the picture, she had carefully marked it. "I wanted to learn more about this Lady Mariko Yoshida. It says that she was one of the major political powers at the time, and I'm really curious how she got involved with this guy, I mean, he definitely doesn't look Japanese..."

Ororo had been listening to Clarice, but when she looked down at the picture, she felt as if the world had started to spin. Clarice's words faded to a distant noise as she looked at the picture. The caption read 'Lady Mariko Yoshida and her consort, photographed 1892, Tokyo, Japan.' The picture showed a delicate looking Japanese woman, and standing behind her was Logan. He was dressed in the Japanese style, but it was unmistakably him.

Suddenly, she remembered Marie's words... ' a picture of him an' some Japanese woman.' Could this be the picture? Could Marie have been referring to a picture taken over a century ago? It was remarkable how Logan didn't look any older now that he did in the picture...

"There are some ways to learn more about the Lady Mariko, I can show you some of them. I have no idea how much we might learn about her consort from them... This is amazing. That's... in the picture, the man behind her is Logan. He can't remember his past, but it's definitely him." Ororo tried to gather her thoughts.

"Speaking of Logan, he's agreed to help teach you self defense. We're meeting him in the morning for a run."

end part 2.

Clarice and Remy had been there for the run in the morning. They had looked like they had tried to be prepared, although Remy was clearly not used to being up at this hour. Ororo was pleased to have an excuse to spend time every day with Logan, at least for the morning run.

Clarice had leaned over and whispered "He really does look just like the man in the picture... but how? I mean that was over a hundred years ago?"

Ororo could only smile faintly. "Logan has a healing factor. He can heal from any injury very rapidly, our medical experts have said it not only makes his age impossible to determine by examining him, but would most likely make him nearly immortal."

"Ladies, time to run. You can discuss people's mutations later." Logan had decided that they had talked about him enough. They were here to exercise. They could talk about him some other time. Made him feel odd, being discussed like that.

The run had gone about as he'd expected, and they had then moved on to a basic evaluation of the abilities of Remy and Clarice. He'd decided to work with Clarice earlier in the day, the Cajun didn't seem to be at his best in the mornings. So, they had established a schedule, morning run, then he'd work with Clarice. Remy's lessons would be later in the day. He had found the whole thing less frustrating than he'd expected. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad, teaching the new people...

After the morning run, Ororo went to have breakfast and consider strategy. She wanted to ask Marie if the picture of Lady Mariko was the one that she had seen. It might be best to consider her method first, too minimize the chances of wanting to electrocute Marie again. It wouldn't be fair to the baby.

Eventually, she had as much of a plan as she could manage. Armed with the history book, the page with the picture marked, she began to look for Marie. She found her in the living room, flipping the pages of a baby-name book. Reminding herself that she was supposed to be a peaceful woman, she spoke. "Marie? I have a question for you."

Marie looked up, looking a bit apprehensive when she realized that it was Ororo. "A question? Ah suppose a question shouldn't hurt. Go ahead, ask."

Ororo moved closer, opening the book to the page. "Is this the picture of Logan that got you..upset?"

Marie looked, and saw the picture. The one that had made everything fall apart on her. "Yeah, that's the one. Why are you showing it to me?"

Ororo felt something inside her shift. At the same time, she was both furious that Marie had thrown away her relationship over a picture over a century old, and understanding of the pain in her voice. She had once dated someone that had cheated on her, she remembered how much it had hurt. "Marie, did it not occur to you to look at the date under the picture? This was taken over a century ago. You should..." Ororo paused, reminding herself to remain calm. "If you couldn't have had more faith in Logan, you should have still looked at the date."

Ororo left Marie looking at the history book. She walked away, wanting to leave before the tug of war between sympathy and fury ended, because she had no idea which emotion would prevail. She wanted to do something, anything to burn away some of these emotions.

Sitting on the couch, Marie stared at the caption. She hadn't stopped to read it when she had first seen the picture, so certain that the man was Logan. Chances were good that it might actually be him, but... 1892. The woman had to have been dead for decades. The picture was over a century old, meaning that anything between her and Logan had to have been long since ended. Her own relationship could have continued, would have continued except...

She had let her own foolish insecurities convince her that Logan had strayed. As a result, she had practically fallen into Warren's arms, and his bed. Warren hadn't loved her, hadn't wanted a future with her, she had only been a temporary fling for him. That fling had cost her Logan. He had been right, she had cheated on him, nothing could change that. She couldn't even blame it on him anymore. It was all her own doing.

Marie dropped her face to the pillow and wept for her own mistaken fears, and the price they had cost her.

end part 3.

Ororo had shown Clarice how to find more information on Lady Mariko, suggesting that since there would be a report later in the semester about an influential political figure, that she might want to use Lady Mariko, since she found the woman interesting so far. As an ulterior motive, she was hoping that Clarice might find something about Logan.

Marie had been very quiet the past few days. She had been seen often sitting, staring out the window, or looking at a dried flower, a tear in her eye. She had finally realized how foolish she had been to throw Logan away, now when it was too late for her to salvage anything from what they had once shared. She had also given up trying to ask Remy out. Ororo had been watching her, and had found herself almost feeling sorry for her.

Logan was training Clarice in self defense, teaching her how to deal with someone without teleporting away. Clarice was not certain if she was actually learning, as they had only just started. What she was certain of was that working with Logan every day would either put her in great shape or kill her from exhaustion. They ran every morning, regardless of the weather, and Clarice had her lessons right after.

Remy's time with Logan, other than the morning run, went quite differently. After testing Remy, Logan had concluded that the Cajun did know more than a few things about fighting. He was quick, light on his feet, and could improvise easily. They still had a session every day. Logan was convinced that no matter how quick on his feet Remy was, he might still have gaps or weak points in his knowledge. They were searching for them.

Remy didn't seem upset by this plan at all. Not only was it good exercise for him, he knew that his lessons hadn't focused on fighting. Logan could probably teach him a few new things. It was also good practice for his mental shields. Logan was a tangled, twisted mass of pain and emotional knots. There were emotional scars, and a particular intensity to his feelings that made Remy aware of every weak point in his mental defenses. Time with Logan told him where he needed to improve his defenses without ever needing to tell anyone that he had them.

In fact, he had the feeling that the teaching sessions, both with Remy and with Clarice were also good for Logan. Not for his physical fitness, as was the case for Clarice. Remy thought that being around people that weren't looking at him as some sort of savage wild animal as likely to claw them open as say hello was good for Logan. He was feeling better. Not so much that he had probably noticed it, but the tangled mess of his emotions were feeling a bit less spiky, not quite as sharply jagged.

Another side affect was that Remy wasn't smoking as much. It had been one of the many not so good habits he'd picked up. Logan hadn't said anything about it beyond suggesting he not smoke while trying to run. It was partly the way he had phrased it, 'trying to run', and partly the simple fact that medical experts everywhere were convinced that you could run better, have better stamina without smoking. They ended up being mostly props now. Gave him something for his hands to fuss with when his fingers felt twitchy.

Ororo would talk to Logan, using the excuse of discussing how Remy and Clarice were doing. While she was interested in their progress, she also wanted Logan to talk to her, to feel again. He would talk for a bit, but the days of him spending hours relaxing indoors were gone. She needed a way to have him spend more time with people.

When the Professor asked her to organize a field trip to take some of the students to the art museum, she accepted, seeing this as a chance. After getting a list of student names, she asked if she could have another adult with her, to help keep track of all the students. Xavier had looked thoughtful, and replied that that might be wise, if she could find someone that had the time.

Ororo had nodded, saying that she was certain she could manage to find someone that wouldn't be busy. In her mind, there was really only one person that she wanted to take with her. All she had to do was convince Logan to go.

He was in the kitchen, searching for something in the back of the refrigerator. Ororo paused for a moment, looking at him, watching the ripple of his muscles, wondering faintly what had happened to the shirt that he was no longer wearing.

"Afternoon, 'Ro. Here, found one of your fancy fruit juices." He shut the refrigerator, holding in his hand one of her bottles of juice, a blend of exotic juices that she particularly enjoyed, and a bottle of cold beer. He handed her the juice, and sat on one of the chairs. "Your protégées are doing good. Cajun's good, though we need to work on his left a bit. Clarrie's making progress, and she hasn't got any bad habits to unlearn... but I mentioned that this mornin'."

Ororo smiled. He was willing to talk to her, staying in the room instead of meandering out. She could sit and watch him for quite a while, but she had a reason to talk to him, and it wasn't to stare. "I wanted to ask you for another favor. The Professor has asked me to take some of the students on a field trip, and I was hoping that you could... go with us? I thought another responsible adult would be good, I'm not certain I could keep track of a bit over twenty students in a museum."

He looked at her, as if weighing her and her words against something. Sipping at his beer, he considered for a few moments before speaking. "Who's going on this little trip of yours, anyhow? What time are you leaving?"

Ororo felt hope surge inside of her. Truthfully, she could probably manage on her own, but she wanted Logan to go with her. She told him about the schedule for the trip, and showed him the list of student names.

Eventually, Logan nodded. "Shouldn't be too much trouble. I think I even have something to wear that won't scare the other museum visitors. We're on."

end part 4.

Ororo spent the whole night worrying that convincing Logan to go with the group to the art museum would end up being a mistake. She worried that he'd lose his temper and terrify the museum staff. That he'd be reminded of his heartache and loose the students in the museum. That he'd hate the trip and never want to go anywhere with her again. Or that something unexpected would happen, and there would be a big horrible fight that would get them all thrown out. Even the simpler fear that he would be bored silly at the museum and regret ever agreeing to go.

She didn't mention any of those fears the next morning. Instead, she simply asked if he was ready to go, and hoped that things would be well. At his nod, everyone began to board the bus, and they were off on their trip. Logan looked a bit less than happy to be on the bus with everyone, but he didn't say anything about it. He was scanning his eyes over the kids, as if trying to decide who would be most likely to cause trouble.

As everyone got off the bus, stretching and talking about what sort of things they wanted to see, Ororo tried to keep everyone calm and somewhat organized. She was beginning to have a suspicion that this 'nice, calm trip to the art museum' that the Professor had promised wouldn't be so quiet or calm. With luck, things wouldn't end in disaster.

Complications started almost immediately after they had entered the museum. The students had grouped in front of the sign telling which direction to specific periods of art were, and there was an intense, if low volume debate about where to go first. To her surprise, Logan took matters into hand.

"Right. You all want to see different things. Part of the deal for you kids to come on this trip is that you have to stay with someone old enough to be considered supervision. Here's what you'll do. Those of you that want to start with the modern period, the assorted twentieth century works, to the right. 'Ro can take you lot through there. Those that want to start with the medieval European, to the left. That's the two choices on the ground floor, that's where we start. After that, each group can decide where to go next. Right or left people."

There wasn't too much debate, and the students quickly sorted themselves into the two groups. Whispering a quick 'thank you Logan' that she was certain nobody would ever hear, she escorted the group that had opted for twentieth century off to the right, into a large gallery with photographs and paintings, with some assorted sculptures in the middle.

There was one photograph, a group of soldiers from the 1920's that looked oddly familiar. Startled, Ororo drew closer, looking closely at the group, trying to determine what had caught her attention. One person, standing to the right side of the group and holding a cigar, looked like Logan. The large blond man in the back also looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place him in her mind. 'Heaven help me, I'm seeing him everywhere now...' Trying to dispel her thoughts, she moved the students onwards.

The rest of the trip went surprisingly well. On one occasion, when her group was going down a hall to see another gallery, one of African tribal artworks, she heard a voice, she thought it was St. John, asking about why someone was always painted in the same outfit, didn't they believe in changing their clothing back then? She heard a deep voice start explaining about how the medieval European populace were widely illiterate, and learned most of their lore about the saints and martyrs by listening to stories and looking at murals, so the people would always be represented in the same colors so that you could tell who they were. There was also a symbolism to the colors, and she missed the rest of the answer as they continued down the hall. Perhaps the most surprising thing about the answer was the fact that she was positive that it was Logan's voice.

Eventually, everyone met for lunch, smiling and talking about the things they had seen so far that morning. There was discussions of what they had liked, and two of the girls were discussing this cute guy that had been sitting with a sketch pad on the second floor. To her surprise, it also turned out that they had gone through a room of Japanese artwork, and Logan he been able to tell them quite a bit about the things, even identifying a few of the artists simply by looking at the painting, without looking for the name.

Who would have guessed that Logan knew anything about art?

end part 5.


	2. parts 6 to 10

The museum field trip had been a success. Not only from the perspective of everyone went, stayed out of trouble and came home safely, but the students had enjoyed themselves. They had all sorts of things to say about the various types of art they had seen, and there was a surge of interest in the art classes offered at the Xavier's Academy. Ororo was also thinking that it had gone well for Logan. He had gone, and apparently had no difficulties with the trip, and might have even enjoyed himself, although he wasn't talking about it. It seemed that the students had enjoyed his group very much, and apparently he'd been quite informative through a few of the rooms of art, especially the Japanese room, and the medieval European sections.

Logan was showing a bit more willingness to be in physical proximity to people, but... well it was progress. Ororo wanted more than that for Logan. She wanted him to interact with people, to have friends, to belong. There was a part of her that wanted him to belong...with her, and to have all sorts of ...interactions with her, but she was trying not to let that part control her efforts. She could figure out how to get him as her own if he ever actually started being among people again, if he stopped avoiding dealing with people.

Her ally in part of these efforts was Remy. He'd never actually explained why, but he'd definitely agreed that Logan had been emotionally shattered, and was in emotional pain from… everything. Remy had also said that he was willing to try to get Logan to stop hurting so much on the inside. He wasn't going to try to hook Logan up with Ororo, but he wanted him to stop hurting so much. Part of Ororo felt that she should try to learn why Remy was so willing to help her try to fix Logan's broken heart, another part was determined not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

She also knew that Remy intended to help in his own way, and that he wasn't going to plan his efforts out with her. While it was nerve wracking at times, she had faith in Remy. He was a decent judge of character, and skilled at avoiding personal danger, so he should be alright. What bothered her the most was that not knowing Remy's plans made it impossible to know if things were making any progress.

She reminded herself yet again that it took time to heal, and that she should be patient. That didn't entirely help, but she could work on preparing the history lessons while she was trying to remember how to be patient. History... the rise and fall of the Roman empire, and some of the kingdoms that had formed from the remnants of the empire.

Remy definitely wanted Logan to heal from his heartbreak. He didn't want the man for his own, Logan was very far from his type. In truth, there was a large portion of self interest in Remy's desire for Logan to heal. If Logan got over his heartbreak and misery, he would stop leaking emotional pain and misery. While Logan's thoughts were pretty contained and really didn't radiate, his emotions had as much weight as anyone else's, if not more so. Essentially, Logan's pain and misery were being broadcast to anyone with any empathic abilities at all. Remy, among his other talents, was an empath. It made his head hurt that Logan was hurting, so he wanted it to stop.

Logan hadn't been like this before... so the whole pain and misery thing had to have happened while Stormy had been away. That meant that Stormy couldn't tell him what had happened. He'd gathered a few bits and pieces of the story while he'd been here, but it wasn't the whole story. Before he could try to help Logan get over his problems, he needed to know exactly what those problems were. So, the first step was to manage to get Logan to talk to him.

If Logan would talk, even if only a little bit, Remy could get images, fragments of what had happened. He could see bits of what Logan was talking about, which would give him far more information than the words the older man would say. All he had to do was figure a way to get Logan to talk about it. After a great deal of thought, he came to the conclusion that there would be no 'perfect opportunity' to bring up the topic. He would have to drag it up, hopefully in a way that worked, and his best chance to actually talk to Logan would be during his 'self defense lesson'.

On his way out, he found himself dragged into an argument between Bobby Drake and St. John about a birthday party that Drake was planning for Jubilee. They were debating chocolate cake versus spice cake, and to streamer or not to streamer. They had originally wanted it to be a surprise party, but it was next to impossible to keep something like that a secret around here. He was still smiling about the whole party planning as he made his way to the outdoor area that Logan had insisted on for training.

Logan was standing there, looking calm but radiating a complex emotional blend of pain, betrayal, despair, and something else, something Remy couldn't quite place, but it felt a bit like envy. "What has you in such a good mood? You normally don't smile on your way to your daily beating."

Yes! The opening for... something. A chance to try to figure out Logan's thoughts. Maybe not about the whole Marie issue, but... how could it hurt to talk to him? "Bobby an' St. John trying to plan a birthday party for Jubilee. Pretty amusing to listen to them argue about it. Anyone who's listened to the girl know she's got a thing for chocolate. So, they should use a chocolate cake."

Logan only grunted, and his face changed slightly, showing the shadow of a frown. He looked unhappy with the whole mention of a birthday party... unless Bobby had been getting on Logan's nerves again. That feeling, the one Remy couldn't quite decipher got stronger, and there was sorrow attached to it, and an old anger.

Remy tried to look like he didn't know what was going on with Logan. He kept his mind open for any impressions that might come along with Logan's answer. "What, you don't like birthday parties? I make sure nobody throws you a party. When's your birthday, anyhow?"

:waking up... snow everywhere, scent of pine and wolves and musk... birdsong...scent of more snow coming, storm gathering... panicked confusion 'who am I?' echoing blankness for an answer...:

"Nobody's going to throw me a party. Don't know when it would be anyhow. Someone once suggested I just pick a day..." Logan's voice trailed off, and his face suddenly closed, as if he'd run into a painful memory. "Better make sure you've stretched."

:Sitting under a tree... oak, smell the flowers and the grass... birdsong... Marie sitting beside him, smelling of apples and hand lotion and denim, holding a small purple flower 'Maybe you should just pick a day... call it your birthday. Any day you want... we can build a future together.':

Remy knew that he was treading on touchy ground. He could see that Logan was not happy thinking about his past. Unfortunately, Remy had always been too curious for his own good. "How can you not know when your birthday is?"

Logan practically growled, and glared at Remy. "I don't know because I can't remember my past. I just... woke up one day, and there I was. Here I am. No past, no birthday, no family. Now, stop worrying about birthday parties and be prepared. We aren't here to chat."

Things were making more sense to Remy now. Logan didn't talk about his past... because to an extent, he didn't remember it. He'd said no past, no family. Had Logan always been alone, or was it only because everything in his past had been taken from him? It didn't take a genius to know that Logan was upset about that, the sorrow and anger had been about his lack of a past. He was upset because he didn't have the understanding of where he'd been, and how he'd gotten where he was in life that so many people took for granted. Maybe he didn't even know his own name, maybe he'd just had to... choose something, and ended up with Logan.

It had to be unbalancing not to know your past. Although... hadn't Ororo said something about Logan going to some place to seek answers? Maybe he'd have to ask her about that. After his lesson was over.

end part 6.

Ororo was in the greenhouse, clipping the dead flowers from the rosebushes. She was trying yet again to figure out how she felt now about Marie. There were too many conflicting thoughts and feelings for it to be a simple answer. She had always been able to understand why Marie had been attracted to Logan. She could also see how Marie, or for that matter, almost anyone else could consider Warren attractive, he was quite handsome. She could even understand how Marie could have felt insecure about her relationship with Logan, Marie hadn't had a lot of dating experience, Logan was quite desirable, surely Marie had known that other women would find him attractive. It was understandable that she would worry that he might want someone else. But... to have let that worry and a picture printed in a textbook throw her into Warren's arms... Ororo couldn't understand that at all.

Now, Marie had no relationship with Logan. Warren had left her to pursue Betsy. Marie was with child, and had nobody to support her during this time that would surely be full of twisting and changing emotions. If she were to be completely honest with herself, Ororo supposed that she could almost envy Marie in a few ways. To be starting a family of her own... Ororo liked children, she had once dreamed that she would find a man and start her own family, with bright eyed children calling her mother, and a garden of flowers.

It looked unlikely that anyone at Xavier's would have a nice happily after for their lives. The world feared them for being different. How could you make a bright and happy future if, as in the cases for some of the students, your very appearance might cause someone to try to hurt you? How could you be happy if you had to conceal part of yourself from the world?

She stepped away from the rosebush, feeling less happy about the future, and immediately realized that she was not alone in the greenhouse. There was someone near her, someone that smelled of leather and cigarettes and a hint of spices.

"Remy? Is it that late? I thought you and Logan..." Her voice carried a hint of puzzlement. Had she lost track of time?

"Already had that. He's a lot faster than he looks like he should be. Wanted to talk to you about him a bit. I had a few thoughts about him... wanted to see if maybe I'm right, or just stabbing in the dark." Remy's tone was casual, but his words were not.

Ororo gestured for Remy to follow, and walked over to a bench, where they could sit and talk. She was curious about exactly what Remy's ideas were, and wanted to hear them.

"He said he don' remember his past. That he just... woke up one day, an' there he was." Remy was looking at her, his manner suggesting that he felt this was a very important part of his theory.

"Yes, that's correct. His memories go back perhaps fifteen years, and before that, he remembers nothing. He spent those fifteen years traveling, alone, and not knowing who he was, or why he has the metal claws. Logan was a man without a past, alone in the world," She paused, trying to remember everything from when he had returned from the Alkali Lake installation. "The Professor had told him of an abandoned military installation that might contain clues as to Logan's past. He went away to investigate it. When he returned, he had found some papers, a few things about who he had once been, but... he still didn't remember. He knew that he had been there, that there had been others there that he had once known, but the memories... he cannot access them."

Remy nodded, as if this confirmed something for him. "Dat would be a part of it then. He has no past, nowhere that he came from. Sounds like he wanted to belong, so if he couldn't belong to a past, he wanted to make a future with someone, follow? Don' even know if he realized... sounds like he wanted a future, wanted to have a place, people that knew him, an identity more than I am Logan."

Shifting slightly, Remy produced a deck of cards, which he began to shuffle almost as if in an effort to occupy his hands. "Who started the whole thing wit' him an' Marie? Did he approach her, or she go after him?"

Ororo looked at him, thinking that she saw where he was headed with this. "Marie approached him. Rather like a stalking lioness after her prey. He didn't seem too upset... they seemed... happy together. I left... I don't know what happened while I was away, but I know that Marie had been talking about a future together, possibly marriage and children."

"See? I tell you, don' know if he knows it, but de man was looking for a place to belong, to fit into a bigger picture of life. So... pretty woman go after him, talking about a future, nice house, a family, a place on the team... He would belong somewhere. He would have a place in something bigger, not just like a business, but a family, people that would care. Then, when it all fall apart, he didn't have anything to fall back on, no support at all, and it hit him very hard." Remy looked at her, his expression serious.

"I tell you, he don't feel like he belongs here. Only thing keeping him here is he's got nowhere else to go, and if he stays around, maybe some crazy villain will make it all over for him. Think he's got a bit of a death wish. Think he's jealous... everyone else here knows where they come from, they know who they are, who they were, and all he's got is that he woke up in the snow one day. I got no idea how to fix this, Stormy."

She looked at him, her blue eyes full of emotions. "We have to find a way to help him. Partly because the goal of Xavier's is to make certain that everyone can find a place to belong, and partly because... I can't bear watching him in such pain and not try to do something. He means too much to me."

end part 7.

Birthday parties... chocolate cakes and balloons and presents. Part of Logan just wanted to growl and scream at the situation. There would be nowhere inside the mansion that he would be able to avoid hearing about it, being reminded of how Jubilee had so many friends, how everyone wanted her birthday to be special and fun for her. It wasn't fair to her though if he gave in to that. Jubilee... from what he'd seen, she seemed like a nice enough person. A bit on the wild side, liked having people around, a bit of a practical joker. In different circumstances, he thought that he could have gotten along fairly well with her.

She thought he was the half crazed wild man that had shown a tendency to claw people. Jubilee was afraid of him, and so were most of the other people in the mansion. They watched him, as if he was some sort of unpredictable berserker, as if one wrong word would get them skewered. It hurt, the way everyone's eyes would follow him, they way they would carry the sour scent of fear if they saw him.

He didn't like the people here being afraid of him. Not like this. If it had been simple respect for his abilities, a fearful admiration for what he could do... he could almost remember something like that. This was different. They looked at him as if they expected him to eat his meat raw and kicking, as if he were only a half step more civilized than the wild animal that had given him his code name. It was strongest from the few students that also had what Dr. McCoy called feral mutations: enhanced speed and strength, claws, enhanced senses. He had the feeling that their private nightmares were of becoming like him.

Part of him wondered if they had reason to fear that. Even if he hadn't been like this before the people at Alkali Lake had gotten him, what if there were other projects, other people that would experiment on mutants? Would they be willing to kidnap a teenager, perform horribly painful experiments on them, use them as if they were no more than a thing with no feelings, no rights? He had a dark certainty that there were other people in the world that would be willing to do such things.

He stayed because... why did he stay here at Xavier's? There was nothing stopping him from walking out the gate, or over it for that matter. He could vanish, disappear into a crowd in this area or several other places in the world. He looked human enough to disappear. What did he have to stay for? He had no one here that cared if he came back whole from a mission, no caring circle of friends that would plan him a party just to see him smile. He had painful memories of Marie, the terrified glances of people young enough to be his children... maybe even grandchildren.

Because... maybe he could make a difference? If he was hit by that fireball, than he would most likely recover, and someone else that would have been killed or maimed would be spared, could stay safe and return to their loved ones. Because if he was here, he would be able to try to stop anyone that planned to do the things to others that had been done to him. Because if he was going to be dumb and heroic here, he didn't have to worry about his own laundry.

Well, there were a few people here that weren't afraid of him. Ororo wasn't, although she said he'd over reacted by trying to rip Warren into little bits. The Cajun, Remy, wasn't afraid of him constantly, only if he pressed too far on some touchy topic, which for some reason he kept doing. The jumpy purple girl, Clarice had gradually calmed down, and she wasn't afraid of him anymore. The blue furred doctor wasn't always afraid of him either.

Right, he was staying here so he could fling himself into the path of danger, and come back to clean sheets and fresh clothing. Because there were a handful of people here that knew what he and didn't fear him. The reasoning rang hollow to himself.

Might as well go to the mansion. Maybe he could ask Hank when those medical records claimed his birthday was? He doubted that it would feel like it had any significance, but if the date had worked for a birthday once, why not use it again? Hell, it could even be accurate. Not that it would make a difference to anyone if he could put a date to his being another year older, but... it couldn't hurt to know.

He had this fragmentary image, himself sitting in a meadow filled with flowers, wearing a long sleeved white shirt and dark pants. He was holding a brown wrapped bundle to a girl with dark hair in two long braids that he could almost see the face of, a girl wearing a long, blue dress. There was a murmur of conversation in the background, and he could smell a cake, with a maple flavored frosting smeared over it. He should know that girl, but he couldn't name her.

Ororo hadn't dropped by yet today. She usually found him at least once to ask how Remy and Clarice were doing with their defense lessons. Maybe... maybe he could look for her? She always smelled of sandalwood and rain... soothing scents really. Yeah.. it would do him good to find Ororo and let her know how things were going. Just so she knew that her students were doing well... it had nothing to do with the way that a few moments in her company made the rest of his day less irritating.

Nothing to do with the way that she smelled of the outdoors, of wildness. Certainly nothing to do with her bright blue eyes, the color of a summer sky, or the way that she would look at him, like he was a person, like he was real.

end part 8.

Logan managed to get through the mansion without anyone seeming to notice him. It wasn't that he only went through empty areas, just that they few people that he passed only noticed him in the vague way of another body in the halls. He entered the restricted area that contained the hanger, the room with the lasers and moving panels that was used for training, and the medical areas.

He could smell the labs, and it made a small shiver pass over him that had nothing to do with the temperature. He moved towards the one that McCoy frequented, one with more computers than petri dishes, and more file cabinets than medicines. He felt less uneasy in that room, possibly because he didn't think he'd ever been in a lab quite like it. For one thing, there was nowhere that a person could perform surgery.

"Pretty sure those twinkies aren't supposed to be good for you." He had entered the lab to see Dr. McCoy perched on his stool, eating a twinkie in a single large bite. He was wearing a lab coat over what appeared to be only a pair of denim cut off shorts. The sight had been not at all in keeping with what a 'normal' genius with a few patents and several degrees would be expected to do, that he couldn't resist.

The comment was so unexpected that Hank nearly fell off the stool. He caught his balance, and half turned, looking at Logan with a mix of surprise and annoyance. He almost said something, remembered that he currently had a mouthful of whatever twinkies were made of, and swallowed. Then, he looked at Logan, and attempted to glare menacingly. It would have worked better on someone else. "Was there a particular reason that you dropped by, or did you merely want to see me fall upon my fur covered posterior?"

Logan leaned in the doorway, an expression that was almost a smile on his face. "I knew that if I wanted to talk to you, I had to come into your lair. You don't live upstairs anymore, if you ever did. I... there was something I wanted to ask you about those medical records that I'd brought back."

Hank stopped glaring immediately. "Well, in that case, hmm feel free to some in, sit down. What did you want to know? I must mention that the records were not complete, there were numerous gaps, and references to other patients and procedures..."

"Did they have a birthday? Date of birth, or something like that?" Logan's voice was low, as if all he had to do was speak quietly, and the memories wouldn't return, he wouldn't feel the jealousy and anger that all the preparation for Jubilee's party were causing inside of him.

Hank had just pulled out the thick folder, stuffed with papers, some with charred edges showing. He looked at Logan, his expression curious. "Ahh, I believe so, although there is a chance, considering your metabolism and healing factor that it might not be accurate."

Logan shrugged, trying to pretend that it didn't matter. It shouldn't matter, age was just a number for him, one more or less chosen randomly. What could it matter what day he'd started his life, or if the day on those papers was right or wrong? If he insisted to himself often enough, it wouldn't matter anymore. It hadn't mattered before, not really. Every year, with the first winter snow, he'd considered that another year had gone by, another year of not knowing who he was, why he was different.

Hank made this 'hmm' noise, and turned his gaze to the folder. Opening it, he flipped pages, apparently seeking on in specific. After a small bit of searching, he stopped, pulling one page partially out of the folder. "According to this, when you were listed as a part of the Canadian Armed Forces, your official records had November fifth as your date of birth. Considering things that we have discovered, there is... ahh... strong evidence that the year listed on this paper is inaccurate."

Logan had to feel a bit amused at the way Hank had put it. He was referring to the picture. The one Marie had found... he'd heard something about it being in the new history book, and he'd borrowed one of the books to find it for himself. He couldn't deny that the man in the picture looked like him, nor could he remember enough to know if it had been him, or someone else. The date on it though... The picture had been taken decades before the project, decades before the date listed on the records as his 'date of birth'.

"November fifth? huh.. not that far off from first snow fall... Thanks." Logan nodded towards Hank, and left the lab area. His mind was already elsewhere, contemplating the whole birthday question. He'd concluded over the summer that how old he was didn't have much of an impact on things, although it seemed that it could still throw in a few complications. But, actually having a day... why did it make him feel better? For all he knew, it could have been that he'd thrown a dart at a calendar to get that day. Somehow, it made a difference.

Now, where would 'Ro be at this time of day? No class today, so the room where she taught history was out. He hadn't smelled her near the lake before he'd come in, so she wasn't out there. hmm... where could she have gone? Maybe she would go to the greenhouse?

There were some flowers in there that didn't grow outside, at least, not in New York's outside. He knew that she like the flowers, and spent a lot of time tending them when she was here. He could just picture her, dressed in something soft and flowing, maybe blue like the sky, surrounded by brilliant flowers.

Looked like his next stop was the greenhouse.

end part 9.

Logan was on his way to the green house when he saw Remy leaving the glass building. There was a faint scent of 'Ro with him, the bit that said that the two of them had been talking. No traces of anger though, which was good. Ro'd brought this guy back with her, the last thing she deserved for that was him giving her problems about it.

Logan let himself into the building, pausing to adjust once he'd closed the door. It was warmer inside, and more humid. Those two factors intensified the fact that the air was already laden with scents, hundreds of different types of flowers, herbs, grass, tree starts... all with their own scents filling the air. It was enough to make his head spin. With it all, there was a hint of sandalwood. Sandalwood and that indescribable something that was Ororo.

He meandered along in the direction that he thought that she was. Her scent was all over the greenhouse, making it harder to pick out her current location. Of all the places to wander around in, the green house was one of the prettiest, and most relaxing. Flowers everywhere, with the slow fluttering of bright butterflies and the colorful flitterings of some hummingbirds, the greenhouse was like a glorious garden. The only weather that it had was provided by the overhead sprinklers, unless 'Ro had figured out a way to make indoor rain clouds.

She was sitting on a bench near a rosebush, with a set of pruning shears in one hand. He could see the withered remnants of old blooms that she had clipped and permitted to fall at the base of the shrub. She looked as if she was thinking, and he could smell a faint hint of tears, which told him that her thoughts were not entirely happy. He stood there a few moments, just watching her. She was in a soft flowing outfit, with some shining silver and blue jewelry on. Her hair was loose, and looked almost like a cloud, wrapping mystery around her. She was beautiful... and she didn't have any idea that he was standing there, watching her.

"So, when did this place get hummingbirds?" Logan had the feeling that he shouldn't just lurk and stare at her. He should either go away and let her think or... or let her know that he was there. Since he didn't want to leave, that meant he had to talk to her.

She made a small noise of startlement, looking at him. Her hair slid over her shoulders, reminding him of moving clouds, or the shifting tide carrying sea foam. "Logan. I didn't realize you were here. The hummingbirds... one of the students has the ability to communicate with birds. He invited them in a few months ago. Would you care to sit?"

Logan walked over, dropping comfortably to the ground. The scents here were all soothing, and the soft noises were restful, making this hardly feel like an enclosed place at all. He was content to simply sit there for a while, as long as she wanted to let the quiet continue. She looked like she was thinking about something different now, and the faint sheen of tears that had been in her eyes a few moments ago had left. She was running her finger lightly over the handle of the pruning shears. Good, Ro was one of the last people in this place that he would want to be unhappy.

Eventually, her patience must have run out, because she looked at him, her brow slightly lowered in curiosity. "Logan, what are you... I mean, it is good to see you enjoying the greenhouse, but was there a purpose to your visit?"

"Thought you might want to know how Clarrie and your Cajun are doing. And it seems that the cake debate for Jubilee's not such a surprise party has been decided in favor of chocolate. Drake was going to try to get Jean's recipe." Logan's words were drawled out, casual, relaxed. As if it were a coincidence that he was here.

"Ahh.. I had wondered if that debate would be resolved. Would it be too much to hope that the resolution happened without bloodshed?" She was almost laughing.

Logan gave a small grin. "From the sounds of it, there was almost some violence, but it was brought up that since the party is for Jubilee, her cake should be her favorite. The compromise was that since they expected so many people, they would just make another cake for guests to eat. Echoed pretty clearly through the house, might I add."

There was a little more silence, and Logan spoke again. "Remy's good. Half the time, I think he's only taking the time to make Chuck happier, the rest is split between he wants a good workout and he thinks I might find somewhere he needs to improve. He depends more on being fast and agile than hitting hard, style difference. He's got a pretty solid punch to him. Ro, what all does that guy do? You brought him, what are his abilities? There's something I've been noticing..."

After letting that sentence trail off into thoughtful silence, Logan shook his head. "Clarrie's learning. She's getting some nice endurance built up, and she's making progress with her stuff. Near as I can guess, if nothing else the endurance will help her with her teleporting. It has to take something out of her to do that."

There was another comfortable silence. Logan guessed that Ro was thinking about how her students were doing, how they were fitting in at the school. He watched her, seeing her as more than just a teacher, more than someone that had chosen to support a dream. He saw her as a person, and he realized that he didn't know very much about her, not as Ororo the woman. He knew how she fought, how she taught her classes, but not what type of person she was on the inside. He didn't know what she wanted for her life.

It occurred to him that he wanted to know her. He wanted to know what her favorite movie was, what she wanted to be doing with her life in twenty years... He had no idea how to begin. He'd never... well, in the time that he could remember, his strong points had never included talking to people, or making friends. How did people go about his?

"Hey, 'Ro. When's your birthday?" Logan wanted to know more about her. It was not a terribly skilled opening, but... he figured it couldn't hurt, well, rather, it should be a harmless enough question.

"March twentieth." She looked at him, her blue eyes filled with questions. "Why the sudden interest?"

Logan shrugged, trying to look casual, as if he didn't feel nervous. "Just... curious, I guess. All the talk about birthdays lately..."

end part 10.


	3. parts 11 to 15

Sensing that Logan was actually interested, and not just being nosy, Ororo smiled faintly. She continued to fuss with the flowers, giving the appearance of gardening, and she decided to tell Logan about some of her previous birthdays. Not just detailed lists of things that she'd been given, but little bits about how things had been celebrated, a few stories about things going wrong, how there had been a slight mix up with the cake one year, and instead of a chocolate cake, she had ended up with one that tasted like coffee.

She told him about the one birthday that she could clearly remember with her parents, and about how when she had been a child-thief on the streets of Cairo, her birthday had simply meant another year survived. Then, she talked some about how birthdays were celebrated among the tribe that she had stayed within Africa after she had left Cairo. She spoke of how in the tribe, at certain points, there was a small extra ceremony, to mark the passing from one stage of life to another.

Eventually, Logan left the greenhouse, a thoughtful look on his face. Ororo wondered what he was thinking, if he was happy, or if her tales of birthdays had made him feel more apart, alienated from everyone else. She suddenly felt envious of Jean, or Betsy, or even the Professor. They were telepaths, they would know if Logan were upset or simply thoughtful if they were here. But, they probably wouldn't tell her. All she could do was try to read his body language and expressions, to hope that he would give the little signs for her to try to interpret.

What had prompted Logan's curiosity? Surely, he would have left if he had become bored while listening? Which meant that either he had been curious, or he had simply wanted to listen to the sound of her voice. Both possibilities had a few merits to them. Ahh, she might as well stop pretending to garden, there was a whole stack of history papers that she had to grade, waiting for her in her office.

She could ponder Logan, and what had prompted his curiosity about birthdays. But she could do that while grading some of the papers. It would get things done, and if she looked as if she were busy, people would be less likely to bother her.

Remy had seemed so somber after his conversation with Logan. Worried that Logan were seeking death at the hands of some crazed villain, some dangerous menace. Remembering the few missions that she'd been on with Logan since she'd returned, she didn't know if she could argue with Remy's assessment. But still... she had her own idea, her own hope for Logan's motives in staying at the mansion. Perhaps, instead of simply seeking his death, he was seeking a reason to live?

Could she offer him that reason? Could she bring herself to confess her own secret desires and yearnings to Logan, hoping that he wouldn't reject her? Would he even be willing to trust someone with his heart again?

end part 11.

After the loud, chaotic, sprawling activity that was Jubilee's birthday party, Ororo learned that Clarice had a birthday coming up as well. But Clarice was much more shy than Jubilee, and only wanted a quiet gathering with a small cake and her small group of people that she considered friends. She also wanted Ororo and Logan there.

Remy had simply grinned, and insisted that he plan everything. He had been learning about Clarice on their morning runs. Logan didn't mind them talking to each other while they ran, as long as they could make the distance. She loved the lake, and on occasion had spent hours just sitting beside it, smiling as she spun herself pleasant daydreams. In his mind, that meant that the perfect place would be an area on the shore, big enough to gather about a dozen people, far enough from the water that the gifts and cake would be safe from waves or splashing. He had consulted with Ororo, to ensure that the weather would be good for it, no rain, not too cold... a good day for a party.

That was easy, as was going and having a word here and there with the small group of friends that Clarice had made. He simply told them that he was planning a birthday party for Clarice Saturday by the lake, and he thought that she'd like it if they came. The hard part was yet to come. Clarice liked Logan, being one of the few people at the mansion that wasn't afraid of him. She would probably want him at her party, although Remy couldn't quite picture Logan singing happy birthday with one of those silly paper hats and a noisemaker. He gathered his courage, and set off to find Logan, looking for the pattern of emotional scars and pain that was Logan.

Logan had been in the woods, along the path that they ran on every morning. It was a fair distance from the mansion, ensuring that he wouldn't be interrupted often while doing whatever it was that he was doing out here. "Logan. Been looking for you."

Logan had just closed the bag beside him, evidently alerted to Remy's approach in time that whatever it was that he was working on was safely out of sight before Remy could see it. "Why? Didn't think I was your favorite person."

Remy had grinned, wondering how far he could tease before Logan would snap. For a few moments, this risk taking part of him wanted to find out... but that wasn't why he was here. "Putting together a party for Clarice. She's got a birthday coming up. So, party, by the lake on Saturday. She likes you, you're one of her favorite teachers for some reason. Must not t'row her around like you do me. Remy thought Clarice might like it if you came to her party."

"Saturday? hmm that should be enough time... yeah. I think I can drop by, at least for a few moments. She likes strawberry ice cream." Logan had looked thoughtful, and there had been a flicker of an image, too fast for Remy to get more than an impression of fabric in his hands and a familiar, comforting scent that he could almost name....

"Dat's all Remy wanted to say right now. I just let you get back to... avoiding everyone at the mansion. I be sure to get her the strawberry ice cream then." Remy had left, trying to figure out what Logan had been doing, what he was hiding in the bag.

The party had ended up a small gathering beside the lake, a few of the students, Ororo, and Logan in attendance. There was chocolate cake and strawberry ice cream served with little purple, pink and white sprinkles. There hadn't been the same huge mountain of gifts, but Clarice had been delighted, and everyone knew that the tears glistening in her eyes were caused by happiness.

The only person who didn't look entirely overjoyed by the occasion was Logan, who looked a bit awkward, as if he wasn't certain that he should really be there. His gift to Clarice had been a rag doll, one that had looked hand-made, although nobody had any idea where he had found it. The doll had been made from a light purplish fabric, and the hair was soft thread, and almost matched Clarice's own hair. It wore a simple dress, and apparently had been stuffed with something other than mere cotton filler, as it had a sweet, herbal scent that clung to it, lavender and grass, and something else.

It had looked a bit out of place among the CD's and fashionable clothing, the walkman and the pair of roller blades that had been other gifts for Clarice. After the gifts had been cake, and Clarice had looked positively giddy as she blew out the candles, beaming with happiness and blushing as everyone sang 'Happy Birthday', Logan's gravelly voice easily discernible through the song.

"Clarrie, you didn't make a wish." John had apparently noticed that she hadn't paused before blowing out her candles.

Smiling Clarice looked at him, at the small group that had gathered here just so she could have a birthday party. "I didn't need to. Everything I'd ever wanted... I've already got it. I have friends now, and a real family, the sort that's connected by caring, not by DNA."

Logan had froze at her words, a startled expression flickering over his face. He looked very thoughtful, and sat on a log, absently scraping the last bit of half melted ice cream onto his spoon while the students began to drift away.

Ororo had stayed, picking up the gifts and preparing them for the trip back to the mansion. Remy was picking up the wrapping paper fragments, charging them and tossing the over the lake where they exploded in a do-it-yourself fireworks display, mainly in pinks and reds.

Clarice looked at them, Ororo and Remy and Logan, and her eyes were shining with happiness. "You're my family now. I couldn't ask for a more caring mother than Ororo, or a better big brother and source of fun trouble than Remy... and Logan..." Here she looked at him, her eyes filled with joy and hope and something else, some other emotion that burned in her eyes. "I couldn't have asked for a better father than you, Logan. Even if it's not by blood... you have become my family." She blushed, as if embarrassed by her declaration.

Having essentially just adopted them, Clarice picked up some of her gifts and headed back to the mansion, leaving the others stunned by the lakeside.

end part 12.

Logan watched Clarice carry her gifts to the mansion, his mind spinning from her words. She considered them to be her family? Ororo her mother... that actually worked quite well. She would make a wonderful mother, all caring and nurturing like she was. Remy as the older brother to lead someone into trouble was a perfect placement, actually. But then she had said that she looked at him as her father... as everything she could have asked for in a parent. The words dragged themselves out in a stunned whisper: "But I don't know how to be a father."

"A Father is supposed to be able to help you grow… to guide you into knowing who you are and how to handle life... someone that you can turn to for help or advice. What sort of father could I be? How... why would she..." Logan shook his head, trying to make sense of everything, and began walking off, intending to go think for a while. Perhaps if he thought about it, he might understand.

Ororo and Remy looked at each other while Logan left, each communicating a message. This was unexpected. Hopefully, it would be good for him.

Ororo spoke first, her words showing her concern. "He has so little confidence in himself... I can see how surprised he was when she said that."

Logan left before he could hear what, if any, response Remy had. He had a great many things to think about. The fact that 'Ro had seen how surprised he'd been at Clarrie's words... that was actually one of the most harmless things on his mind. Somehow, knowing that she'd seen his surprise didn't make him feel vulnerable. She wouldn't hurt him with that knowledge. He didn't think that 'Ro would ever deliberately hurt him, either by action or with her words. He didn't think that Remy would be too much of a danger either. Remy knew what it was like to not belong, to not fit in. He wouldn't use that against Logan.

Clarrie thought of him as a father. Him. Of all the adults at the mansion, all the people that she had met, she had decided that 'Ro was the person that she would want as a mother, and him for a father. She had meant her words, that she couldn't have asked for a better father. That, in her heart, he felt like family to her. Family... he'd wanted family. Maybe... instead of prowling in the woods, he should help his... sort of daughter take her birthday goodies to her room? He wasn't certain, but... he didn't think he'd been adopted before. It was an odd feeling, sort of warm, and sort of frightening. Did this make him a role model? The last thing that he wanted was for her to approach life exactly like he did!

He made his way back to the lake, where 'Ro and Remy were still gathering up the cake. 'Ro might be just about the perfect mother type for Clarrie, but there was no way that Remy looked at her as a mother. Possibly as a sister, although he wouldn't bet on it. Certainly a friend. They were talking about Clarice, how it was good for her to have friends, how she hadn't had them before. How sad it was that she had been avoided simply because she was lavender skinned.

"I'm just going to help get some of these gifts over to her room. She can't carry everything." They were looking at him. He could feel the questions in their eyes, so he offered an explanation, half wondering why... But he knew. Clarrie had put it just right... they were family.

He helped Clarrie get all of the presents, and felt extremely relieved when she said that she liked his gift, the lavender scented rag doll that so resembled her. She had just finished putting everything else away, and had picked the doll up again, looking it over, searching for some sign of where it had come from. She had placed it on her bed, and it seemed perfect for it, looking quite right on the patchwork quilt in purples and pinks, the fluffy pillows.

"Logan? Where... I mean, I didn't know that anyone even made rag dolls in lavender. She looks... she looks just like me, and she's got a happy smile on her face." Her words carried a bit of curiosity, but there was more gratitude, and delight. The doll made her smile, made her feel happy.

"She didn't come from a store. That doll is a one of a kind special, just like you are. Just remember, there's no reason why you couldn't find a way to be happy, no reason why you can't face life with a smile." Logan shifted slightly, hoping that she didn't ask too many questions about where the doll had come from.

She gave him a hug, her smile so big and bright that it made him smile in response. "She's perfect. Thank you... and Logan? It's... it's okay for you to be happy again. I know you've been hurt in the past, but... you can move on, right? You can be happy again?"

"Well... I can try, Clarrie. I guess... I can try." Logan left her to settle her new clothing. He was smiling a little, thinking over her words, and the words that he'd heard from Ororo after the party. 'Ro hadn't thought it was silly for Clarrie to consider him as a father, only that he didn't have confidence in himself. 'Ro seemed to want him to live again, to be happy, just like Clarice had said.

He could move on, could be happy again. It sounded good.

end part 13.

Logan was thinking during the morning run with Clarrie and Remy. Oh, part of him was keeping track of where the other two were, and a part of him was aware that 'Ro was up in the sky somewhere, trying to determine how much cover the path actually had. He found himself wishing that she were here on the ground with them. Clarrie thought that he should try to be happy again.

He was certain that 'Ro could help him figure a few things out. Not that he was trying to say that she could just make him entirely happy, although... he shook his head, frowning slightly at the turn his thoughts had taken. Not that those images were unpleasant, no, the idea of himself and 'Ro laying on the meadow, their limbs tangled together was quite pleasant actually. But there was more to life than sex, and more to happiness than passionate sex with a gorgeous woman.

He figured that of all the people at the mansion, 'Ro was the one that seemed to be the most at peace with herself. She didn't seem to be troubled and tormented by her past, or by what if's and maybe's. He was hoping that if he could talk to her, she might be able to help him figure out a few ideas on where to start settling his past. Helping him lay the troubles of the past to rest so that he could move onwards, to a future.

He could hear Clarrie and Remy talking about her birthday party. She'd been delighted with everything, and was telling Remy all about how wonderful it had been. Remy was explaining the bits that had been contributed by others, and they sounded so... happy, and peaceful. It was almost.. yeah, almost as if they were the family that Clarice had named them to be. He felt himself smiling at the thought. If he was the father figure, did that mean that Remy was supposed to be his son? The idea was almost funny, and he just had to ask.

"Clarrie thinks that we're a nice little family now. Said you're the brother she would've liked to have had, Remy. So, if you're her new brother, and I'm her father, does that make you my son? Do I have to tell you what sort of things will get you into trouble and the right way to get a hold of beer?" Logan had to ask, and his voice carried something almost unfamiliar, a bit of humor. He hadn't been laughing much recently. Maybe it was time he tried to remember how to laugh instead of things like where he had come from.

Clarice just started to giggle, and he could tell that she was trying to run and laugh at the same time. The pace slowed some as the effort grew, and he could tell that she was laughing so hard at the idea, or at the images that it brought up that there were tears of laughter streaming down her face.

Remy made a few sputtering noises, which only made Clarice laugh harder. "You... my father? Oh, an' Remy t'ought he was in trouble before... So, Dad, you gonna explain to me de facts of life, an' why I'm supposed to be home by nine if I go out wit' a girl? Or talk about the right way to play sports? What about the right way to get beer? I can't picture... wait, actually, you couldn't be dat bad of a father. Maybe Remy need someone like you around, teach me all the ways to fight of de trouble I call down on myself."

Now they were all chuckling, and smiling. The expression felt odd to Logan, as if it had been a long time since he'd smiled. A long time since he'd felt so good. "I think you'd be a troublesome kid. Always sneaking out to go places you shouldn't. Probably juggling too many girlfriends as well... remind me to have Hank give you the safe sex lecture..."

Remy gave an exaggerated moan of dismay. "Ohh, not dat! Anything but dat! He spends too much time on all the diseases, and he's got projections of all the viruses you can get... it's enough to make someone want to swear off sex forever! Hmm..." Remy had taken on a mock thoughtful tone and expression. "So, can I get a raise in my allowance?"

Logan laughed more, feeling oddly lighter inside because of Remy going along with the discussion. It gave this feeling of connection, as if the idea of having Logan as a father figure didn't upset Remy at all. "Allowance? If you want an allowance, then we need to have little talk about chores and not borrowing other people's belongings.. Don't take Hank's twinkies, don't mess with Chuck's chair or Scott's visor...hmm anything else? Right, no more secretly adding spices to the coffee."

Remy and Clarice just kept laughing, and they all felt oddly cheerful for the rest of the day. Images of Logan attempting to give Remy the lecture on the birds and bees... or telling Remy that he had to do his homework before he could go out and play. They were joined by images of Logan being the overprotective parent and growling at all of Clarrie's would-be boyfriends.

end part 14.

After lunch, still feeling in a better mood from all the images flashing though his mind of himself as Remy's father, Logan started searching for Ororo. He found her on her way to the greenhouse, one hand holding a plate with some of the leftover cake from Clarice's party. With a small smile, he held open the greenhouse door for her, following her inside.

She had smiled at him, apparently pleased to see him. Had her blue eyes brightened just a bit when she saw him? Had there been a slight change in her breathing? It might be nothing. It would probably fuel more little fantasies in his mind, like the one earlier about the two of them in the meadow.

He was glad that she wasn't a telepath, that she couldn't see what kept going through his mind at the sight of her. She was beautiful, and graceful... He kept picturing her frolicking in the waters, covered only by her pale hair and cascading droplets of water sparkling in the light, like Venus emerging from the sea. Chances were that those images, or those in the meadow would earn him a lightning bolt.

He waited until they were inside, until she had sat down, smiling slightly as she devoured her piece of chocolate goodness. He looked at her, once more certain that she would be able to help him figure things out. "So, umm I was wanting to know if... maybe you would be willing to help me try to clear out some of the nightmares and regrets I've got. Help me figure out how to get things straightened out."

She looked up, startled by his words, and there was a small smudge of frosting at the corner of her mouth. "You think that I could help you? Why not the Professor, or Jean, or someone... there are some here with training in psychology. Why of all the people would you ask me?"

Forcing himself not to lick that smear of frosting from her face, Logan gave her a small smile instead. "I want to find a measure of peace with myself. So I can go through the day more calm. The way I see it, that means I should find the person who seems the most at peace with their self and ask them to show me how to get closer to that point. Thought about it, that person is you. I know you've had some terrible things in your past. I know things aren't always easy for you here, but you always seem to handle things, to stay calm. Not the whole stepped back from people thing that the Professor has. Not someone poking into my head and taking notes... no head-shrinkers. Someone that's figured out how to live life, and enjoy things, and still be calm when trouble happens."

She smiled, and the expression was breathtaking. "I would be delighted to try to help you. I'm not entirely certain that we will be able to sort out everything, but... surely talking about some of the things that trouble you couldn't hurt."

Logan settled himself onto the ground, and sighed. "Might as well start with the latest big thing. The whole disaster that was me and Marie, and the ugly shattering at the end of it."

Ororo winced, and sighed slightly before speaking. "Logan, I do not wish to sound as if I am criticizing... but why did you ever get involved with her?"

Logan shook his head slightly, and shifted his position slightly, less than comfortable with the idea of discussing his relationship with Marie. Unfortunately, if he didn't talk about it, he wouldn't have any answers. "It wasn't like that at first. She needed a friend, and so many people were afraid of her because of her power... I wasn't afraid of her. I never feared her power, I still don't. So, I was her friend, and I thought that she was mine. Then, the walks started being a little earlier or later, she would be a bit closer to me... And I wanted to have someone. My very own special someone. It seemed like she'd grown up in a lot of ways, both over the time while I was gone and as a side effect of having some of the people in her head... me, Magneto..."

He was staring at his hands, pinching the strands of grass off to an even length. He wasn't certain that he wanted to see 'Ro's face as he talked about this. "She seemed to know exactly what she wanted from the future. A place on the team, a nice family... and she seemed to want me. She's pretty, and to have a pretty woman wanting me, even knowing how messed up my past has been... I guess I didn't want to ask too many questions. I wanted to believe that we could make it."

Ororo's voice was soft, soothing. "You wanted to belong. To have a place that was all your own, outside of the X-Men. You wanted someone that loved you. I think perhaps everyone wants someone to love them."

Logan grunted, a noise containing pain, dismay, and regret. "That may be so, but not everyone makes such a bad choice at it. No sooner did I go away then she jumps into bed with someone else. Then she tried to blame it on me, something about a picture of me and some other woman..."

Ororo spoke, her tone hesitant, interrupting Logan's speech. "The picture does exist. The woman is Lady Mariko Yoshida, a powerful figure in Japanese politics, shown with her consort. Having seen it, I have no doubt that it is you in the picture. There is a date, 1892, and it is in chapter forty three of the new history books."

Logan looked up, his expression intense, a number of emotions running through him. Surprise that there was a picture, that it was over a century old, that he had been in Japan. Uncertainty and confusion that he had been somewhere, probably in a measure of the public eye a century ago, had a complete life that he couldn't remember. "Mariko... I can almost remember... plum blossoms and green tea. Rice cakes... like trying to remember a dream from a while ago. I can't remember where I've been, who I used to be. I feel like I'm trying to build a life out of a handful of sand."

Ororo sighed, patting Logan's arm comfortingly. "In a sense, we all begin again when we come here. We leave behind some of what we once were, to start over here. To rebuild ourselves... to grow and become more capable, more confident of who we are. None of the students, other than Remy, would have any idea that I was once a thief. I no longer need to steal things to be able to eat. They might have a bit more of an idea how I lived with my tribe in Africa... but they don't know the darker parts of my past."

His curiosity piqued, Logan looked up, looking into her eyes, which were the color of dark sapphires. "How did you live with your tribe, 'Ro?"

She blushed, and ducked her head slightly, as if hesitant to finish the story that she had mentioned. "I could call the rain, whenever I chose. Because of that... the village was in a dry area. Someone that could call the rains... they worshiped me as if I was a goddess. Anything I asked for was given to me, I was treated with the utmost respect and caution. But I did not have many friends, only followers, admirers."

She looked away, her fingertips brushing over the petals of a deep purple flower. "I came here, and decided to rebuild my life. There is no reason why you cannot rebuild yours. I think... perhaps you must come to terms with yourself about you and... Marie. Maybe you should try to come to a sort of closure with her as well. Make a clear ending. A settlement of sorts."

Logan sat there, thinking about Ororo's words and her advice. It didn't sound like anything that would be easy. No, a settlement between himself and Marie, especially now, would be far from easy. But he had the feeling that it was a necessary part of healing. That he had to put an end to that section of his life before he could move on. Move towards his future.

end part 15.


	4. parts 16 to 20

Logan sighed, wondering what could be done about things. 'Ro had been right when she had suggested that he needed to wrap up a few loose ends with Marie. And there were a great many loose ends, the biggest, which would only grow being the baby that she carried. Marie was pregnant. But, was the baby his or Warren's? What did he intend to do about it? The only thing that he was certain of was that he didn't think he could trust her with his heart again. He had given it to her, and she had broken it. Perhaps not as deliberately as he'd once thought, but just as painfully.

No, there would be no happily after for him and Marie as a couple.

But, just as clearly, she wasn't a couple with Warren, the other possible father. She didn't have a special someone now, and that meant that she wouldn't have a special someone to help her raise her baby, not someone like a father figure. Although, this was a school, there were a great many people around. Surely they would be able to help with the baby's needs? Shouldn't they be able to come to some sort of arrangement?

The whole mess was giving him a headache.

What if the baby was his? Would he be able to help raise the baby, considering the pain and heartache that Marie had caused? He would like to think so, would like to believe that he could be good enough as a person not to blame the baby for its mother's act or Warren's.

What if the baby was Warren's? That would in some ways be easier for him. But, it would be harder on the child, to know that he or she had been conceived by two people having a shallow affair. Somehow, he couldn't quite picture the feathered mutant being a doting papa.

It was an unarguable fact that Marie was pregnant. It was unknown if the baby were his or Warren's. Warren didn't seem to have any further interest in Marie. He wouldn't ever trust his heart to her again, not after what had happened.

But, if the baby was his, didn't he owe the child some measure of... something? Whatever sort of fatherly good examples he could give? He had to hold back a disdainful snort at the idea. What sort of father would he be? How could he be a good role model for someone, considering the state of his own life?

Remy and Clarice didn't think he was too bad. Clarice had decided that out of everyone here, he was the one she wished had been her father. Remy had gone along with Clarrie's dream family, and had seemed quite alright with the idea of Logan as his dad. Maybe he wasn't quite as bad as he thought? Maybe he could be a decent father after all...

Clarice had decided that 'Ro was the mother she'd always wanted. He could picture it so easily, a nice little house, an older fashioned one that worked well with the landscape, nice plants everywhere, leafy shrubs, pretty flowers... Of course, there would be the children, several, playing happily. She'd make a wonderful mother.

He could picture her in a garden full of flowers, every color of the rainbow, her body rounded with pregnancy, small children in the garden, looking at flowers, chasing butterflies... He could almost see a little face, a small boy, maybe four years old, with 'Ro's white hair, and bright blue eyes. Except that the little boy's hair stuck out on the sides in two points, almost exactly like Logan's did.

The realization startled him. He was imagining Ororo as a mother, with children and a garden, which wasn't a surprise. But the fact that they appeared to be HIS children that he was imagining Ororo having... That changed things.

Did this mean that he had developed feelings for her at some point? Was he picturing a future with her based on some unspoken feelings, or was it simply a side effect of Clarice declaring them her parents? He had to admit that she was beautiful, her body curving in rich womanly curves, her hair like a swirling cloud behind her, graceful and mysterious. Oh, Ororo was definitely beautiful, and he would certainly have no objections to helping her produce a family of children... but did he actually want a relationship with her?

For the moment, he set aside all considerations of 'Ro having a say in her future. He simply wanted to try to figure out his feelings, and what he felt for her. Once he had figured out what he felt, he could think about what to do with the knowledge. That would be the time to consider what did Ororo want, not now when he was trying to sort out his emotions. After all, how he felt wouldn't change depending on what she wanted.

Ororo was beautiful; it was a given that he found her delightful to look at, and not quite as given but true that she had lately been making appearances in his dreams, behaving in a most... passionate manner. So, he found her beautiful and desirable, but what else? She was intelligent, and sensible in her actions. She was patient and kind, and had this sense about her, not quite the same as sweetness, but more like... tranquility. He respected her abilities as a fighter, and felt absolutely certain that he could trust her to get things done as safely as possible in the field, to protect those who needed it, and cover people's backs.

That might not be love, but it was a firm foundation for friendship and possibly more. She was... quite possibly the only friend he'd ever had, certainly the only one he could remember. But now, things were changing, and a good portion of that was things that could be traced back to Ororo. She had brought back Remy and Clarice, and between the three of them, they were starting to make him feel like he had somewhere that he belonged. Like there might be the chance for him to have a future, to be something more than a fighter, more than a man a few steps above a wild animal.

He would allow himself the chance to dream, even if she would never want someone like him. She deserved someone better, someone with a past, who hadn't been dragged off to be opened up for some demented scientist to play god with.

end part 16.

Logan found Marie sitting on the rear porch, watching the sunset. She looked almost as if she was cold, sitting on the railing and leaning slightly against a post, her knees pulled up and her arms wrapped around them. Her hair fell down around her face like a curtain, and only the white streak, legacy of her encounter with Magneto, was easy to spot. She smelled faintly of tears.

Part of him still wanted to rage against her, to be furious with what she had done. Another part hoped that she was suffering emotionally from the aftermath. A third part wondered if talking to her was really necessary, but he knew that it was. Things had been shattered between them, and pain and confusion lingered, like slivers in a wound, refusing to let either of them really heal. She had been his friend once, and he wouldn't have wanted his friend to suffer. He also wanted to move on, and how could he when his own doubts and confusions circled him in tandem with the image of her wounded eyes?

"Marie. I think we need to talk," His voice was gruff, full of all the tangled emotions that he was experiencing.

She moved, half spinning around to face him, and lurched a bit, almost losing her balance before steadying herself. She tucked a lock behind her ear and looked at him, the same dark eyes full of pain and loneliness that had first made him want to help her looking at him under dark lashes. "I didn't know we had anything left to talk about. After all, I did... everything that's happened since you went to Scotland."

"Nothing's healing between us, it's just festering, like a bad wound going worse. We can't either of us change the past, but we can... I want this pain to stop. Every time we look at each other, it's like things are ripped open again. We need to talk it out, get everything out in the open, like lancing a boil."

"Not a pretty picture." She made a dismayed face at the imagery. "You're right... nothing's healing. That picture... did you see the picture? The one that made everything fall apart?"

"Someone pointed it out to me. Seems the damn thing was taken over a century ago. For all I know, it could have been my uncle, or great grandpa... You know I can't remember anything before that damn project. I don't know if I've ever met the woman, if I've even been to Japan." He was scowling now, hating the reminder that his past was gone.

"Or it could be you. The consort." Her voice was low, filled with regret and sadness and a hint of envy.

"It could have been me... the me that I used to be. But I can't remember that. I have to admit there's a strong resemblance. It could be me. But I never cheated on you."

"I know it now, but I wasn't so sure then. If it helps any at all, I'm sorry... sorry that I ruined what we had." She sounded very sincere, and smelled as if she was on the verge of fresh tears.

"How's the baby? Have Hank or Jean been able to tell you anything yet?" Logan shifted awkwardly, feeling awkward at the reminder, uncertain why her apology didn't make him feel better. It helped to know that she regretted shattering his heart, but... there was no urge to take her in his arms and hold her close. She had left his heart.

"They tell me that everything's progressing normally, and I need to take some special vitamins... they taste terrible. If I'm honest, I'm a bit scared. I said I wanted kids, but... I also figured there'd be a husband in the mix, you know?" She was chewing the corner of her lip.

"Yeah... makes sense. You never seemed like the sort to want to be a single mom." Logan wondered what the baby would mean to the place that she'd wanted on the team.

"I talked with the Professor. He said I have a place here, but I shouldn't try to be out risking myself while I'm pregnant. We had a long talk... we'll be able to make arrangements for helping take care of the baby, and Hank an' Jean are more than capable of giving me all the prenatal an' delivery help that I'll need." For a moment, she was looking entirely towards the future, her face showing a mix of hope and nervousness.

"There's... there's not going to be an us in the future, is there Logan? No forgive and forget, everything's all better?" She was looking at him, her eyes a mix of emotions, as if part of her knew that it was over and a part of her was hoping for a fairy tale ever after.

"No, there won't be an 'us' in the future. We were good as friends though... It would be nice if we could be friends again someday. But, I gave you my trust, and it was broken. That isn't the sort of thing you just forget."

"Do you think it would be that simple? Just, I'm sorry, let's be friends again?" She sounded curious, and a little doubtful.

"Hell no, it won't be that simple. Most likely, it will be long and painful, and take quite a while. But, eventually, maybe." Logan paused, remembering the happy times. "You've got a lot to offer someone, Marie. You won't be alone forever. Someday, you'll find someone that makes you happy, and maybe then you can have the nice house and family that you always wanted."

She gave a small sad smile, and seemed to consider his words carefully. "Logan? Answer me something. Are you... Have you gotten involved with another woman?"

He looked at her, his mind running over the sensual dreams he'd had of Ororo, the way he'd started seeing the sensual side of her nature. And he remembered that just because he saw her as a desirable woman did not mean that there was anything between them, no more than Clarice. "I'm not dating anyone, Marie. I haven't got a somebody."

"Maybe you need one. I've noticed lately... Logan, you looked really bad for a while, not just the bushy hair but you looked bad. I think you need a good woman to take care of you, make sure you don't neglect yourself. Someone to keep you in line, as my Granny used to say." She looked almost amused now.

Logan really didn't know how to react to that. It had felt not precisely good to talk to Marie, but he thought it would help things heal. But he wasn't at all certain that he needed a keeper, or that he wanted Marie to take an interest in his future love life, assuming he had one. Part of him felt relieved though, that this thing hanging between them had been slashed out of the way, that she had essentially given her blessing for him to move on. It was nice, but it wasn't her blessing that he needed. Not if he was to move on to the woman who now filled his dreams.

End part 17.

Logan hadn't had the most restful night. His talk with Marie had felt rather difficult and awkward, but left him feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Afterwards, he'd had dreams, some about an implausibly shining future with Ororo, and a nice house with lovely gardens and smiling delightful children everywhere. Other dreams had been decidedly child-free and intensely passionate, causing him to awaken tense and sweating, reaching for the passionate woman that he'd been so certain was in his arms just a moment ago. But she was never there, always it was no more than dreams. Some were less happy, dreams where he had some small child depending on him, looking to him for guidance and protection, calling him 'Daddy' with big sad eyes, wanting to know why he wasn't like other kids, why he didn't have a grandpa and grandma, why his daddy didn't have a job and family. He woke with a little voice saying 'why' echoing in his ears, tears burning in his eyes, and his throat tight.

It had left him feeling tense and irritable in the morning, and he had slipped out of the house early, before the dawn had brought the warm colors of sunrise to the horizon. With only the light of the thin crescent moon, he ran, following the perimeter of the school grounds, ran until the sun was above the horizon and his lungs and muscles burned from the exertion. Only then did he feel as if he had worked away enough of the tension and turmoils of his night's dreams. Finally, as he slowed to a walk, his chest heaving as he sucked the air into his screaming lungs, he realized that he was hungry.

It was time to go back to the mansion, back to the place where he would see HER, the siren that had filled his dreams, vanishing as soon as his eyes opened, and she wouldn't know, wouldn't look at him the same way. She wouldn't be looking at him with blue eyes gone dark with secrets and passion, wouldn't give that slow smile intended to drive him crazy. He would have to deal with it.

He trudged back to the mansion, feeling as if his bones were dragging him down, as if he would be sinking into the ground like Kitty in a fit of depression. He could feel every tendon and muscle, felt as if the smooth slickness of his metal bones was attempting to make his muscles and tendons slide away. God, he was suddenly feeling morbid. He'd best find some way to shake off this feeling. Otherwise he'd find himself munching on toxic mushrooms again, and giving himself indigestion.

No sooner had he filled a plate with food, barely giving any attention to what he had actually put on his plate then someone else entered the room. A small part of his mind placed the soft footsteps, slightly shuffling the left foot and the light scent, Clarice. He settled into a chair, certain that if she wanted to talk to him about something, she would talk.

"Logan? Can you… There's a carnival. I was wanting to go… but I need someone to take me." She sounded a bit nervous.

"You ask anyone else? Is there anyone else who's wanting to go?" He was wondering why she was so nervous. If she wanted to go, he could probably take her.

"Some of the older kids were going, but… they said I was too young, that I would just be an annoying tag-a-long. Jube's got this new video game she's trying to buy, Kitty needs to change some of the things on her computer. Remy said he'd love to, except he said he has to do this thing with the danger room." Clarice was fidgeting a bit, worried that she wouldn't be able to go.

Logan nodded, remembering the rather loud discussion that he'd overheard between Remy and the Professor. "You know that he can make things explode? Seems the Professor has decided that Remy needs to figure out what the limits of his charging are, and how big of an explosion he can make. Remy didn't want to endanger anyone with testing his power out. This was the time that nobody else had the Danger Room reserved."

Clarice's eyes got very wide as a bare whisper carried her soft "oohhh." She paused, frowning slightly. "Could he really hurt someone with his explosions? Are they that strong? How worried was the Professor?"

Logan gave a small chuckle. "You're just full of questions, aren't you? He could hurt someone, I'm just not sure how badly. Nobody except maybe Remy has any idea how powerful the explosions can be, that's part of what they want to find out. They want to test the limits of what he can break, melt or detonate. Xavier was very worried, and Remy probably knew that. He's pretty good at reading people. Hmm, thought you came here to ask about a carnival, not Remy's social life?"

She giggled, blushing a bit. "Don't tease… He's practically family. Can you take me to the carnival?"

"Sure thing, Clarrie. I'll even bring some money to spend on those silly carnival games, the ones with rings and darts." He smiled a bit, feeling this warm glow inside when she made a happy squeal and flung her arms around him, delighted half words of thanks coming from her lips before she left again in a cheerful lavender blur.

He could feel himself smiling, even though he wasn't quite certain why. She was so... enthusiastic about living. It was as if she felt that she had to experience as much of life and happiness as she could, before something could happen to snatch it all away. He wouldn't let anything ruin her happiness if he could prevent it.

He might not be a hero, and he most likely would never change the world, but if he could make a difference for Clarice, that would mean that something worthwhile had resulted from his existence. He'd like to actually make a difference somewhere, some benefit to him taking up space and eating and breathing on this planet for... however long he'd been around. Maybe a long time, considering that picture.

Remy'd been spending more time with him lately too, not all of it just working on his fighting. The guy wasn't too bad, although it was clear as daylight that he'd been a thief. He didn't seem to want to hurt people, so Logan didn't worry terribly much about Remy's past. He wondered, especially since he got the feeling that Remy was still hurting over parts of it, but what could he do? He couldn't change the past, and he couldn't force Remy to talk about anything. All he could do was try to make sure Remy knew that if he ever needed someone to listen, he could talk to Logan.

He wondered exactly what haunted Remy's past, what had caused the look of barely contained fear that crossed his eyes occasionally when he thought of his past. Logan wouldn't have been able to read it without the scent that had accompanied it, the red on black eyes looking entirely different from any other eyes that he could remember... at least, from anywhere but a nightmare. He wondered what horrible things tormented Remy's dreams, what had occasionally sent him out in the pre-dawn morning to run away the scent of fear.

But he didn't know how to ask.

Maybe 'Ro would have some idea? She'd brought him back with her, she had to have some idea what he was doing when she met him. Maybe he could ask her about Remy?

With a small snort, he admitted to himself that he was just looking for an excuse to talk to her. To smell her scent, like sandalwood and rain, and another bit that was entirely woman. To watch the cloud of hair that floated around her head, to see those amazing blue eyes, like the sky over the forest. To try not to stare at her curves, graceful and feminine without the blatant display that some women used. No, Ororo Munroe needed no carefully designed clothing or supportive undergarments to look like a goddess among women. She had only to enter the room...

His clothing felt oddly constricting as an image leapt into his mind, Ororo reclining on silken sheets, blue as a summer sky, clad only in the flowing lengths of her hair. He felt his breath catch a bit at the image, and he wondered if the reality could come close.

But that wasn't what he was supposed to be thinking about. No matter how tempting it was to sit and consider a beautiful woman naked, or...

He had some things that he was supposed to be doing. Working on the engine of his jeep, it had been making this funny little knocking sound. Or he could try once more to convince Xavier to add a class in swords to the offered physical classes.

For that matter, he had a pair of swords that he'd picked up in this one city he'd been through, he could find a clear area and practice with them. He had no idea when or where, but at some point in the Before times, he'd learned how to use a sword. A part of him wondered, had he learned the sword as Major John Logan, or had that been another new life, another time of starting over, recreating himself? Had he been the Consort of the Lady Yoshida? Had he learned the use of swords in Japan?

Maybe if he went outside and played with his sharp bits of metal, he would stop thinking about Ororo laying naked on blue silk, or maybe swimming in a clear pond, surrounded by graceful trees...

He really needed to get a grip on his thoughts.

end part 18.

In the end, the swords didn't help very much. They helped some, but the images were still there in the back of his mind. No matter how hard he concentrated on the proper patterns, no matter how fast he pushed his body to move, still the images remained.

Maybe he didn't really want them to go away.

With a small growl, he continued the patterns, steel flashing in the morning sun. He had agreed to take Clarice to a carnival tomorrow. What had he been thinking? Right, that it would make her happy, and that she had the biggest, most pleading eyes he'd ever seen. When had he become such a softie?

"Didn't t'ink anyone was s'possed to have t'ings like dat here." Remy's voice came from the right, well out of range of the movements in the pattern. He smelled of sweat and a hint of old fear.

Logan grunted, debating how to answer. "First, I'm not a student. Second, Professor never put down the law that people here couldn't have dangerous toys, just a few guides for using and storing them. After all, why hide the knives if the kids can throw lightning bolts or turn a candle into a fire dragon?"

"Hmm, good point." Remy smiled as he considered all the abilities of the people at the mansion. Granted, some of them were just kids with visible differences, but others had sometimes frightening powers.

"Can't restrict the possession of mutant abilities, but they can try to make a few guides. So, how did your run go?" Logan figured that Remy seemed inclined to stay, so he might as well talk to him.

With a small shrug, Remy answered. "Had... dreams. I couldn' get back to sleep after, so I figured I might as well run. Somehow... I don' think that's what's going on wit' you."

Logan gave a short bark of laughter. "True. Clarrie conned me into taking her to the carnival tomorrow. That and... I keep thinking about 'Ro. Don't go poking into my head."

With a shudder, Remy held out one hand in a gesture of denial. "Non... I not go peeking into your head. It's a dark an' scary place. But sometimes you... eeh, it don' matter."

"Empaths. Can't live with 'em, and some of them project if you shoot 'em..." The words came from Logan's mouth without pause for his mind to even figure out where the hell they had come from. "errrr... When did I know any other empaths?"

Remy was staring at him, with the oddest expression. "Don't know where you might have run into another empat'. But I might have to try the projection t'ing. Could be useful..."

Logan sheathed the swords with a growl. "Kicker is that I don't know either. Apparently it was sometime after the invention of guns. It might help if I had some clue how old I am, but... enough about my problems. Running sometimes helps with bad dreams, and sometimes it just makes you tired. If you want, you can talk to me about them sometime."

Remy looked at him, as if measuring Logan against some internal standard. "Dunno, some of the t'ings in my past are pretty bad. Ugly t'ings. You might not want to hear them."

Logan gave a small sigh. "As long as you didn't have anything to do with me getting this metal skeleton or organize anything similar, it shouldn't be a problem. I've seen ugly that I remember, and I've seen ugly that I can't remember when I'm awake, judging from my nightmares. Some of them are pretty bad all by themselves."

"What, you t'ink if Remy talk to someone about the ugly parts of his life, everyt'ing be better? No more nightmares?" He smelled angry, and as if he was remembering old pain and fear.

Logan resisted the urge to knock the Cajun down for behaving like a bratty teenager. "No. Talking about the past won't stop the nightmares. But it might make you feel a bit better. 'Course, I only ever tried it with this pack of wolves... and there was the grouchy wolverine. The animal, not the codename. I probably can't fix your problems, but I can listen and pass you a beer."

"Might have to take you up on dat sometime." Remy's voice was low as they walked back to the mansion.

Ororo was on the threshold of the mansion, dressed in this flowy blue dress that rippled and clung to her body. Her hair fell loose, and she resembled the sky when streaked with clouds. They could only stand there, both struck silent by her beauty.

"I see you two have been up for a while. Does Remy truly need so much practice that he is left drenched in sweat? Or was this the result of some sort of male bonding?" Her soft smile prevented the words from having any sting.

Remy just grinned and ducked past her, his voice calling back from the mansion. "Sometimes a body jus' can't sleep no more."

Logan found himself gazing at her, reminded unnecessarily of those fantasies that he had been unable to banish. He felt like he'd swallowed his tongue. "Morning 'Ro. That... nice dress."

Mentally, Logan was kicking himself and calling himself all sorts of names in a variety of languages. Here he was, standing in front of the object of his fantasies, and the best he could manage was 'morning 'Ro, nice dress'? Maybe someone should take him out back and shoot him. His face felt oddly warm and he looked at the floor as he slipped by, muttering some pitiful excuse about needing to put the swords out of the reach of the students.

He entirely missed her delighted smile as she watched him go away. Nor did he notice the way her eyes slid over the muscles of his back and lingered for a few moments over his rear as he left. She didn't look at all dismayed over his speechless reaction.

Instead, it was with a serenely confident smile that Ororo left the mansion to go pick up a few things from town.

end part 19.

Ororo was feeling confident and hopeful. She had seen Remy and Logan heading back to the mansion, seen them talking. While she had no idea what they had spoken about, it was clear that they were trusting each other more. They were starting to feel that there was a place they belonged.

They had been impressed by the blue dress. Remy had looked as if he'd just swallowed a hot pepper, his face going red and his lips moving a few times with no sound before he made his hasty escape. But Logan had looked... the way his eyes had gone wide and he'd just stared for long moments had at first made her wonder that he didn't like it, but then he'd spoke, his words sounding half strangled and ragged. He'd called it a 'nice dress'. Of course, the fact that his expression had reminded her of the wolf in those old cartoons, the one chasing the buxom women and howling in appreciation had corrected her concerns.

Logan had liked the dress a lot.

That simple fact had made her smile with feminine delight. She had harbored secret feelings for him for what had felt like forever. If there was to ever be even a chance for something more than simple friendship between them, he had to notice her as a woman. With this dress on, he'd most definitely noticed.

Now, she had to hope that it wasn't just the dress. That Logan could still see her as an attractive woman when she was in her normal clothing. Ororo knew that she was attractive, tall and graceful with curves in exactly the right places. What she didn't know was why men never seemed to be willing to act on it. She could see the admiring looks, but... most men simply didn't approach her. It was baffling, frustrating, and even worse since Logan had come to the mansion. She'd never wanted anyone to approach her so strongly, and when he didn't, the annoyed confused frustration felt more intense.

She sighed as she remembered why she was going into town. Someone needed to go pick up a few pieces of medical equipment, and some medicines that had been delivered to the store that Hank preferred. Supplies and equipment that had something to do with Marie and her baby. She had been asked to go partly because she looked more normal than Hank, and in part so that she would be elsewhere when Marie had her check-up. Hank was worried that she might try to electrocute her again.

What sort of mother would Marie be? She seemed so vulnerable at times, and she seemed to need someone to be with her, someone to make her feel valued and loved. But that someone wouldn't be Logan anymore.

Honestly, Ororo had felt relieved when she'd heard about the little chat the two had had. Marie hadn't mentioned much, and she'd actually been talking to Jean, but apparently, the two had exchanged words, and Logan didn't hate her. He was hopeful that maybe they could be friends again, but figured it would be a long, painful process. They would never again be a couple. Jean had been supportive of the idea that Marie should try to get to the point where it no longer hurt to think of the now broken relationship.

She'd nearly danced for joy. Logan would not be reconciling romantically with Marie, although he wanted the festering pain between them to subside. Maybe... maybe he would be willing to try another relationship at some point. Maybe he would be willing to open his heart again. Maybe this time, she could capture his interest, draw his attention.

With a small sigh, she contemplated Logan. He was not unattractive, and he certainly had impressive muscles, but his face was not what would be considered handsome. There was a degree of ruggedness, a weathering caused not by the elements or time but by pain, even if much of his past was lost to him, it had still left marks. His hair seemed to be a wild force in it's own right, forming these odd points, reminding her of wild beasts occasionally shown on the nature channels. He was gruff, temperamental, and didn't do well with large groups of people. But he had amazing amounts of patience when teaching Clarice, and he would risk any sort of injury and danger to rescue someone in need. He was tenacious, unwilling to give up a goal because of any external danger. While he seemed to try not to get attached to people, if he cared, he would go to the ends of the earth to help someone.

If he ever choose to be with her, it wouldn't be a relationship based on theaters and fine restaurants, but there would be devotion and passion, commitment and a promise that here was someone that would not be snatched away by illness or injury. He was a man that would understand her bond with the sky, someone who wouldn't try to drag her back to the earth and push her towards a traditional domestic life. But he would be there for her when she choose to come back.

She allowed part of her mind to wonder what sort of house he would have, if he had his own place, somewhere to have a family. There would be trees, perhaps including a pine, something to remind him of Canada? She could see a home for his family having colorful hardy flowers, although she couldn't quite see Logan gardening. That would have to be tended by someone else, like a wife or lover. She could picture his home standing along the side of a hill, overlooking a forest or perhaps a lake, with the sounds of nature all around. Her imagination added a complex wooden play set in the yard, the sort with swings and slides and a little cabin at the top. Then, her mind added a few children to play on it, a small tanned boy that looked like a miniature Logan, and a little girl with white hair and laughing blue eyes, and a toddler, with the same oddly pointed hair as Logan, but with far darker skin.

Ororo sucked in a sharp breath as she realized what she had done. She had imagined him in a nice little house, a place for a family, and she had added in children, imagining him as the proud and protective father of HER children. Well, at least it was a slightly cleaner fantasy than most of her dreams featuring Logan. No, those were more like the explanation for where those three children had come from.

What would he say if he learned about her dreams? Dreams where he was hers, and they shared a passion far too wild and primal for the mansion? Dreams of the two of them, across the lake on the beach, or in a clearing of the forest, pine and growing things scenting the air, with nobody nearby to interrupt their passion? Or the fantasies where he came to her, seductively, armed with a silk scarf and he used it to bring her to amazing heights of passion, struggling to stay quiet in the mansion? No, it would be best if nobody learned of those dreams.

As for his reaction to her daydream of a nice cabin, with their children playing in the yard, how could she tell him? What was she to do, walk up and say 'Logan, I wish to be the mother of your children and the keeper of your heart?' Somehow, she doubted that such a statement would go over well. With a snort of laughter, she revised that statement. With the devastation that Marie had caused on his heart, how could he be willing to trust it to another?

Really, she'd best stop allowing her mind to run away on such delightful tangents. Yes, she wanted Logan. Yes, it was a nice feeling to see him looking at her with that stunned lustful expression. But that wasn't what she was supposed to be doing in town.

After she had signed for the payment and delivery of the assorted medical supplies and equipment, Ororo had a thought. All of this was in preparation for Marie's baby, the first child to be born at the mansion, the first child of any of Xavier's students. Would her baby be the last? Would more of the students... possibly even some of the X-Men start families? She knew that Scott and Jean had been considering a baby, and they had also been talking about wedding plans, but... was the School going to change into a separate community? A place with families and babies? What would that mean for the future?

She wasn't certain if that would be a good thing or not. It would certainly be a possible danger if any of the anti-mutant groups learned of the school. They would accuse it of being a breeding ground for a mutant army. It would be vulnerable to attack, and the children could easily be hurt. It might also foster a feeling of isolation, of apartness, the feeling that they shouldn't mingle with the outside world.

That was something that she didn't agree with. While it was important to have someplace to go that was a safe place from the outside, they were all still a part of this world. They belonged to the world, in the world. It could lead to terrible tragedy if they ever forgot that.

end part 20.


	5. parts 21 to 25

People in all sorts of clothing were everywhere, some of them with painted faces, or threads and beads braided into their hair, or streaks of glittering hair spray. There was the sound of music from the rides, people trying to coax customers into playing all sorts of games, hundreds of people in conversations, and the mingled scents of sweat and food and the soil and paint and grease… Why on earth was he here, subjecting himself to this chaos?

"Ohh! Cotton Candy!" Clarice's voice was delighted as she caught his hand, trying to drag him over to one of the trailers selling food and drinks.

Right, that was why. For Clarice. He was just an old softie… With a bit of luck, everyone wouldn't find out about that. Sighing, he forked over three dollars for a small bag of fluffy sugar dyed pink, handing the bag to Clarice.

He did have to admit that she looked like she was enjoying this an astonishing amount. Clarice's enthusiasm was almost enough to make this fun for him as well. She wanted to see everything, to ride the rides, to play some of the games, or have him play them in order to win her some of the prizes…

He hefted the little dart, frowning at it. The balance was terrible. It was probably on purpose, to make it that much harder for people to win. Frowning, he took aim, throwing it at a green balloon, smiling as it popped. The green balloon was followed by a small blue one and a medium sized red one popping. Clarice squealed with delight, pointing to what looked like a small green and white panda bear.

"Oh, thank you!" She hugged him, eyes sparkling, the toy smacking into his back.

Patting her back, he smiled, feeling pretty good right about then. "You're welcome, Clarrie."

Eventually, Clarice admitted that her feet were starting to hurt from all the walking, they were both carrying armloads of prizes, and she was sunburned, becoming a painful looking pinkish red. She was pretty happy about everything, smiling the whole way back to the mansion.

Remy was standing under a tree, cigarette in one hand, an unhappy looking Ororo next to him. Logan looked over, wondering what was going on. "Clarrie? Why don't you start taking these inside, I'll ask 'Ro if she can find you some aloe for that sunburn."

"Okay… are you going to find out what's wrong with them?" She was staring at Remy, her voice sounding worried.

"I intend to try." He ruffled her hair a little bit, sliding out of the jeep to walk towards them.

"Why do you not wish to practice more with the Danger room? It is a safe place to try to gain control!" Ororo sounded frustrated, and a bit confused.

"Don' think it's that safe for Remy to practice in." He was standing with his free hand wrapped around his stomach, and he stank of fear and guilt.

"Why on earth not?" She looked unhappy, and her hair fell around her shoulders, a thin line of skin peeking at Logan between her gray shirt and her faded jeans. A silver hoop twinkled at her navel.

"It… needs some work done. Some t'ings got broken in there." Remy shuddered, as if he'd suddenly felt too cold.

"Ro? Could you help Clarrie with some aloe? She got sunburned today." Logan tried not to annoy her. She looked positively gorgeous when frustrated, her eyes sparkling, her cheeks a bit flushed, lips parted just a tiny bit…

"I suppose I can do that. Perhaps you can talk to Remy, figure out how to make him behave sensibly, since you have become his father." There was a hint of smile on her face as she turned to go help Clarice.

For a moment, Logan just watched as she left, before shaking his head and turning back to Remy. "Right…'Ro wants me to make you see sense. How about if we start with what's the matter? You don't look very happy about something."

Remy shrugged, trying to look casual. "Can we walk a bit? 'S the danger room. I don' want to practice in there right now."

Logan just made a 'come along' gesture, and began walking towards the trees. "Why don't you want to practice there?"

For a while, Remy didn't answer. "Makes me feel like an experiment. Brings up bad memories for me… memories of Sinister."

Logan glanced over, knowing that when Remy had said 'sinister' he'd meant a person. "Did something get broke in there?"

"I didn' mean to!" His words were whispered, almost like a desperate apology. "One of the lasers… it was only set to stun, but… I t'rew a card at it an' blew it to bits."

"Hey, I'm not mad at you, kid." Logan offered an awkward reassurance. "But 'Ro is right about one thing, you have to make sure you have control over your power. About using it or not using it, and only using as much as you want at the time. You have an active power, one that does things."

"As opposed to you? You got a few nice tricks there yourself." Remy managed a faint smile.

"Yeah, opposed to me. I smell things, or hear them. I heal if I get hurt. I don't get sick. None of that requires me to practice except for sorting out what I hear or smell. Nothing accidentally gets totaled by my powers, because I can't accidentally blow things up like Scott, or call up a tornado because I got cranky like 'Ro can." Logan sighed, glancing at his knuckles. "As long as nobody tries to wake me up, my powers can't accidentally hurt anyone."

"So you think Remy needs control." There was a flatness to his voice.

"Damn straight. It doesn't have to be in the Danger Room, and it doesn't have to be with a couple of college graduates watching, but you need to be able to control your power." Logan looked over, hoping that Remy understood how serious the matter really was.

"Accidentally brought down a building once." He kicked at a small branch. "Guess you're right, but I don' like it. Had enough of being stared at an' measured."

Logan was thoughtful, an idea forming in his head. It was risky, probably very foolish… "Why don't you and I work on that? There's that gulch over near the cliffs, should keep things contained and away from prying eyes. We can head there after our morning run."

"How much do you know about training mutant powers?" Remy looked at Logan, his eyes sparkling.

"As far as I can remember, not a damn thing. But I know about explosions." Logan gave a small smile. "And I doubt that you can do anything that'll do more than hurt for a while. Certainly not by accident."

"When your head got messed wit' they made you a bit crazy, you know that?" Remy looked relieved.

"Yeah." Logan wasn't quite amused. He knew that Remy had meant the remark as a joke, but there were days when he wondered about his sanity. "I know all about that. After all, I could have headed for the hills, and instead, I came back here."

"Crazy or no, Remy is glad that you're here." The soft words were very welcome.

End part 21.

Ororo was waiting when he returned to the mansion. She looked nervous and tense and there was a scent of aloe clinging to her. "Did you talk to him? Will he work on his control?"

He smiled a bit. "We talked. He's agreed to work on control, but not in the danger room. He said it brings up bad memories. From his reactions, I'd say they're real bad."

She looked stunned, as if it hadn't occurred to her that there might be a reason why Remy was being so stubborn about the Danger Room. "Bad memories… I didn't think about that. What then will you do?"

"We're going to work on it. I'll help him get some practice, and he's not going to do anything seriously damaging to me by accident." Logan sighed, wishing that he could help Remy more.

"The important part was the hope that he gain control. I suppose that it doesn't matter that much where he practices if it helps him." She sighed, looking suddenly sad. "Sometimes it is hard to hope for a brighter future."

"I'm not that good at hope." Logan's voice was low, and he tried to suppress the flickering cascade of images of things he'd like to hope for between himself and Ororo. "Not very good at happy endings either, I guess. But I'm just too damn stubborn to stop being a pain in the ass to people in my way. Think that counts for anything?"

She laughed, a glorious sound that warmed parts deep inside of him. "Logan, you are something. Everyone helps. Your stubbornness, your willingness to help people that nobody else will, like Remy, like Clarice, like… well, you do not fear the students for their powers, and that helps them far more than you see. You look at them and see the person they are, instead of a set of abilities. And you try to help them. Even if you haven't had good luck at finding your own happy ending yet, that does not mean that you haven't helped many others find their way."

"Huh." Logan looked away, feeling awkward. She made it sound like he'd done something wonderful, something special. But he didn't feel like he'd done anything great. "Just because they're mutants doesn't mean they aren't scared kids. They want to know that someone's watching, someone will try to help them find a way to make everything understandable, that they aren't silly for being afraid. Anyone could do that."

"But not just anyone does. You do," She smiled. "And I doubt that anyone else could have made so much progress with Remy. He doesn't feel like most of the people understand him, understand hardship and rejection. But you do."

Leaning forward, her lips brushed across his cheek, her scent wrapping around him. "Thank you for everything, Logan."

He stood there, fingers on his cheek as she walked away. His mind was reeling from her words, from the touch of her lips. It had also brought so many dreams crashing to the front of his mind… She thought he'd made a difference in the lives of the kids here. That gave him an entirely different warm feeling than her kiss. Her kiss, chaste though it had been, left him feeling almost on fire with raging desires. He'd best do something to get control of himself fast.

He wasn't quite certain how he ended up drafted into helping with the repairs of the danger room. Partly passing tools and parts, partly connecting wires and securing bolts. The experience helped him learn that while he had some basic electrical and wiring knowledge, the complex electronic theory and why the danger room worked was more advanced than his learning. He didn't follow all the circuitry, but he could wire things so that power went from here to there without any accidental shocks. He could also strip, clean and rebuild some of the weaponry in the room, especially if he just let his hands work without trying to think about it too much.

"Your assistance has been most appreciated, Logan." Hank's voice sounded pleased. "This would have taken much longer without you. While it still isn't fully repaired, it is once again usable."

"Thanks. So… how's the medical stuff going? Anything new and worrying?" Logan felt a bit unsettled by the thanks. He wasn't quite used to it. He asked more to change the subject than a genuine curiosity about medicine.

"mmm. Thanks to the new equipment, we will be able to attend to Marie's pregnancy and delivery here, instead of sending her to a normal hospital. We also have a few new students, one of which had a few injuries from an angry father who was most displeased about a mutant daughter, and a young man who'd somehow been burned before Scott found him. It seems that Jason has a tendency towards the heroic, but requires a bit of help mastering his powers." Hank looked reflective.

"Not too different from a lot of the other people here, in that case." Logan felt a smile on his face, and wondered when his mood had become so close to content. "Right, one last thing. I'm going to be helping Remy work on his powers, but not in here."

"Ahh. He does need to work on his control. It almost seems hard to believe that his abilities caused all of this damage… A most remarkable power." Hank had got that far away look that said he was thinking about something scientific. Probably trying to figure out how Remy's abilities worked.

"Don't make him feel like he's an experiment, Hank. Nobody wants to feel that way. He doesn't need someone poking at him to figure out how and why he can do things." Logan could hear the growl that had crept into his voice. How much of what was different about him was genetic, and how much the legacy of the experiments done on him?

"Goodness, I would not want him to feel that way. A very excellent point, and you may stop growling at me any time now." Hank shifted uneasily. "I do hope you will convey my apologies to him if he felt that way this morning?"

"Yeah, I'll tell him." Logan shook his head, wondering if Hank really understood or was just trying to understand how it would feel. Maybe it didn't matter.

"Got to go, I'll see you later." He left the basement area, walking up into the main part of the mansion. He had too many thoughts in his head right now.

End part 22.

Logan took a couple stacks of the clay targets that Scott kept for some of the younger kids to use for practice, and smuggled them to the gulch. If he was going to help Remy practice, they would need things that could easily get blown up. He also got some sheets of scrap metal, and some bricks and cinder blocks, making numerous trips to get the items out there. Best to get some stuff out there while he was thinking about it. He also got a metal lockbox, and packed in some bottled water, some sports drink that was supposed to have vitamins and electrolytes, and some dried fruit and granola bars, good for some quick energy after a hard workout.

Clarrie was feeling better the next morning, although her movements were a bit off from her sunburn. Logan didn't push her too hard, just hard enough that she didn't think he was taking it easy on her. She was still happy about the carnival, and delighted that she'd been able to go. She'd also explained how Ororo had tended her sunburn, smoothing aloe over it and soothing the pain.

Then came the tricky part. "Why was Remy so upset?"

Logan paused, not certain how much he should mention, and how much he should leave for Remy to explain. "It has to do with his power. He hasn't practiced a lot with controlling how much, and it can be dangerous. He blew up part of the danger room by accident."

Clarice had looked at him with wide eyes, her voice stunned. "But… but it's all this special steel that's supposed to be really strong!"

"Yeah. It got him rather upset. I'm going to be trying to help him with that." Logan shook his head, wondering once more if something really had been knocked loose inside. "For now, it would be best if you don't watch. We don't know how good his control is, and if things get bad, I have a healing factor. You don't. Remy'd hate it if you got hurt."

Clarrie shivered a bit. "But… you'll… you'll be okay? Because of your healing factor?"

Logan reached out, tugging gently on a lock of her hair. "I'm a tough old guy, Clarrie, the worst that will happen is he knocks me down for a while, and I lose my hair. It's not my best feature anyhow, and it will grow back. Who knows, it might look better short."

She giggled, probably picturing him with short hair like Scott. "Or maybe not."

"Or maybe not. Thing is, the healing factor keeps it growing. It won't stay short very long. Now, how are you doing in your other classes? The ones that you get letter tests for, and have a checklist." He tried a smile, and found that it wasn't quite as awkward as he'd expected.

"I'm doing really good in history and math, but my English is… well, I'm not the worst in the class. Sort of vanishing towards the lower middle though. It's better here, though. Even if I'm only doing okay, the teachers don't make fun of me for being a mutant… everybody here is a mutant, so it's not a problem." She smiled, looking so delighted by that simple change that it was astonishing. It also had a few sad things to say about the world, if being treated the same as everyone else was such a wonderful change for her.

"Think talking about your literature during practice would help?" Logan looked at her, wondering if maybe Clarrie should spend more time studying.

"Hmm… maybe. Have you read any of those books?" She smiled, looking at him with a little smile.

Logan mock growled at her. "Listen up, little girl. I don't know if I've read them before or not, but if these books are being assigned to you, I think I can wade through them. I'm sure there's a whole list of books that are supposed to be classics that I don't remember reading that someone here will be happy to point me towards. Partly because there are probably people here who don't think I can read."

It was almost amusing how wide her pale eyes could look. "But… but… of course you can! Right? Why wouldn't you be able to read?"

"Yes, Clarrie, I can read. In several languages. But not medical, Hank's notes defeat me. Not the handwriting, but those twelve syllable words. Whatever else I may have been in my vanished past, apparently a scientist wasn't on the list." Logan chuckled, a part of his mind wondering just how he had learned the languages that he understood. Since he'd been in Canada, English, French, and a couple of the native languages made sense, but where had he picked up Russian and German?

Giggling, she leaned towards him, as if about to convey a grave secret. "Most people can't understand medical. And good luck with helping Remy learn."

He just shook his head, sending her back to work on her math, and bring him a list of her English required reading. Later that afternoon would come Remy's lessons. He didn't think they would be nearly so easy.

End part 23.

Remy was tense as he met Logan for the daily run. Today, the run wouldn't just end with fighting practice, they would also be working with his power. His frightening power. The power that he had to struggle to control, a struggle that had been revealed the other day in the Danger Room. What if he lost control again? What if he hurt Logan?

"Calm down, Remy. You're working yourself up. Time to run, not to fret." Logan's voice sounded calm, as if he had no problems with what was happening.

As they started, Remy frowned, looking at the shorter man. "You sure that you wan' to do this?"

"You have to learn control. Clearly, the basements aren't the place for that, and you made a couple people awful twitchy back there. Hank wanted me to convey his apology if he made you feel awkward. I'll help you work on that. It's not quite the same, but I have to hold back my temper, maybe a few of the things that I use might help you." Logan shook his head, enjoying the fresh air. "It might not be the smartest thing that I've ever done, but… Hell, we both know that Xavier's not keeping me here for my brains."

Remy actually laughed at that, feeling himself relax a little. He wasn't looking forward to things, but with Logan, it couldn't be too terrible. Logan was about as far as a person could get from Sinister and still be a humanoid male. And his bluntly practical approach to mutant abilities… well, it might be useful. "So, what do you got planned?"

"Partly a bit of testing, both to see what you can charge, and if different things hold it better or worse. Best to know before you need it than find out too late that you can't. Plenty of moving around." Glancing at Remy, Logan chuckled a bit. "That sounds like I have some big plan… The fact is that you need to be able to use it at a moment's notice, in the middle of God only knows what. I hope to get you ready for that."

"Doesn't sound quite in line wit' the official 'this is de place to learn how to control your abilities an' have a good education'. Most of the teachers try to say they teaching us how to have a normal life." Remy knew that his voice had given away some of his unease.

"Maybe most of the students here will go on to try to lead a normal life." Logan swatted at a bit of something dangling in the air. "You won't have a normal calm life with a suit and tie job, small condo, and a marriage with option for divorce. I've figured out a few things, and one of them is spotting people that find themselves in trouble a lot. Some of them call it livin' in interesting times. Maybe it's just bad luck and timing, or a thirst for adventure. Call it what you want, but there are some people that no matter what, interesting stuff is going to happen. Interesting normally drags in dangerous. You've got it. Ro's got it. Hell, I seem to have it in spades. I want you to be able to survive this interesting life."

Remy felt himself shudder. Not because Logan was telling him something new, but because he'd already found out that things with his future seemed doomed to be interesting, dangerous, and filled with intrigue and disaster. Logan was only confirming it. But most people hadn't been quite so blunt about what that entailed, and he couldn't ignore that with Logan. "So… any questions before we get started on this?"

Logan chuckled. "A few. Why cards? Have you tried charging other things? Bigger things, smaller things… things that you can't move? Have you ever found something that you couldn't charge?"

"Cards are easy t' get. One box gives you several dozen, an' you don' get age carded. Can find them anywhere. Gives me a chance t' practice poker while I'm waiting around too. I've charged bottle caps, bolts, and cigarettes before. Never deliberately charged anything I couldn't move, because I want the explosion far enough away that it doesn't catch me. The bigger the object, the bigger the charge, an' the bigger the boom." Remy sighed, hating the turmoil of questions and fears that his powers brought up. "I can't seem t' charge anything alive."

Logan nodded. "Alright. Still leaves you with a lot of options, and the reasoning for cards makes good sense. Add in the fact that when most people think of weapons, playing cards aren't on their list… Good. So, let's get started on this."

There was some careful testing, with an assortment of small object that had roughly the same weight, to try to determine if it made a difference how the charge held. Neither of them had any idea why, but it turned out that yes, it made a difference. Metal held the charge quite easily, and created a bigger boom for its size, but it also became hot, or at least warm. Wood and paper products also charged easily, but detonated a bit faster than metal or stone. Using the halves of an expired credit card that Jean had dropped in the kitchen, they tested the reaction of plastic, discovering that while it didn't heat as fast as metal or detonate earlier like cardboard, it produced that heated plastic stench. All useful things to know, even if they didn't know why.

After that they had a short time of more physical work on blocking and evading punches and kicks. It was partly for the exercise and partly to make certain they weren't over stressing the powers, more for Remy's peace of mind than fear of exhaustion. Logan didn't want Remy to feel like he was being pressured about the explosions, and he didn't want him to get nervous and maybe have his control slip.

As the first set of exercises was winding down, Logan looked at Remy, eyes sparkling with his enjoyment of this unexpectedly fun challenge. He'd thought helping Remy with his powers would be a tedious thing, but it was turning out rather enjoyable. "So… how do you do at hitting a moving target?"

Remy tensed, his eyes slowly meeting Logan's. "What sort of target you have in mind?"

Walking over to the nearest small stack, Logan picked up a couple of the clay targets. "These. They get used to help the kids work on their aim, or the telekinetics to practice moving things. So, they're small, easily thrown, and the things are designed to get broken."

Remy chuckled, and seemed to relax. "True enough. So, the plan is what, you t'row them, and then I try to hit them with cards?"

"Cards, pebbles if you want. The goal is simple. I throw these. Every one that hits the ground intact is a point off. You end up with too many points… we find something miserable for you to do. Hit them all, and I'll let you make the coffee and watch Scott try to drink it." Logan grinned at Remy, almost daring him to object.

Remy just laughed. "Wit' encouragement like that, how could I pass up the chance? You just start tossin' those, an' they will be broken very soon."

The sound of shattering clay soon filled the air, accompanied by laughter, occasional booms, and a sort of fizzing whine as the pebbles and cards held the charge. Logan varied the speed and angles that he threw the targets, moving around himself, throwing from various places. The idea was to keep Remy moving, not just to have him use his power, and to have him watching all around him, not just over where Logan had first been standing. Not a single clay target hit the ground intact.

Remy grinned, his expression delighted. "Yes! I make de coffee tomorrow."

Logan chuckled, looking at the clay shards littering the ground. "Yep. So… ever check how well fired clay holds a charge?"

Remy just laughed, shaking his head. "Maybe we can test that tomorrow?"

End part 24.

Ororo walked down the stairs, hearing a commotion in the kitchen. Scott seemed to be objecting to something, describing it as 'bitter, vile sludge'. Intrigued, Ororo looked into the kitchen. The scent of coffee, bacon, eggs and peppers filled the air.

Logan was sitting at the table, a plate with a single strip of bacon left on it and some bread crumbs in front of him, a coffee mug beside him as he watched Scott. Remy was leaning against the counter, wearing a 'Kiss the Chef' apron, carefully not watching Scott while he made himself an omelet. The source of Scott's frustration and dismay appeared to be a mug of coffee.

Apparently, Remy had made the coffee this morning, and if he had that chance, it was always twice as strong as anyone else would make it, and occasionally had other flavorings added. Logan was looking far too calm and amused to have not known.

"Is there a problem, Scott?" She tried to control her smile. But Scott looked so undignified, so… appalled by the coffee that she couldn't quite keep a straight face.

"Remy made the coffee." Scott's voice was tense, and he had grabbed a glass of water. "It's… very strong."

"Jus' a strong pot of coffee t' wake everybody up in the morning." Remy's words were calm, but there was a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. He poured himself a cup, adding a generous amount of sugar as he settled at the table with his omelet.

"This pot of coffee could probably wake up people on the other side of the house!" Scott glared at Remy.

"Pretty good cup of coffee, I thought." Logan's voice was low, full of amusement.

Scott just glared at them both, pouring half of the coffee into another cup, then adding water and stirring. He left the room, shuffling his feet slightly, grumbling about vile brews and coffee that you could eat with a spoon.

She waited until she could no longer hear Scott, still watching Remy and Logan. They seemed to be getting along remarkably well. Remy was more calm, both about being here, and in his dealings with the other residents. Logan was spending more time near people, and while he wasn't what she would call sociable, he never really had been before. "Why do I have the impression that you planned this?"

Remy just smiled, drinking his coffee. "I been a good boy, Stormy."

Logan chuckled, and gestured towards Remy with one thumb. "Told him that if he did good on his practice yesterday, he could make the coffee. Sort of a learning incentive. He did good, hit all the targets. And I like my coffee strong."

Ororo was trying not to laugh as she made her own cup, adding a bit of water, some sugar, and a generous portion of cream to her cup. "This coffee is more than simply strong… It is nearly thick enough to put in one of the engines. I'm surprised that it hasn't given you an ulcer."

"Nah… not good for engines, especially when it starts to separate. Makes things all gritty." Logan's words sounded so calm that it took her a moment to realize that he was making a joke.

Ororo smiled, delighted that Logan would make the joke, even if it wasn't the most wonderful in the world. It could only be a sign that his shattered trust and heart were healing. Perhaps not enough yet for him to try love again, but enough to give her hope. Enough that she no longer feared that he was courting death. "And am I to believe that seeing Scott's expression was an unanticipated bonus?"

"Well, Scott is supposed to believe that." Logan paused, sipping at the coffee he held. "But since it's you, you deserve the truth. Scott's reaction was half of the appeal of Remy making the coffee."

"But we don' need to tell him that, Stormy." Remy's words were full of mischief. He seemed much more comfortable with the idea of trying to master his powers with Logan than the idea of working in the Danger Room.

Smiling at the pair of them, she chuckled. "How many times must I ask you not to call me Stormy? You are just... perhaps Clarice was right, and you are becoming like a family."

"Bit of a messed up family then. You may be the mother figure for Clarrie, but not for me. Maybe a charming sister, but... definitely not a mother for Remy," He grinned back at her. "But I suppose I can deal wit' Logan as another father, least he won't be upset over the whole mutant thing."

Ororo glanced over, wondering if Logan had anything to add to the mention of the strangeness of the odd family that they had started to become. He was looking at her, with this odd, soft smile. Ororo had the feeling that he was thinking of something other than these words, some private dream or memory. What had put that little smile on his face, the look of pleasure and peace? "But it is good to have a family to call your own."

"Both of you are good for Clarrie." Logan's voice seemed even huskier than normal, and his eyes rested on Ororo, still holding tantalizing traces of whatever had been on his mind. "And Ororo would make a good mother."

With that, he stood, rinsing his cup in the sink before heading out of the kitchen. "I got to go make sure everything's ready for your practice later, Remy. Can you make sure Clarrie's up for her run?"

"Oui," Remy nodded.

Ororo watched as Logan left the kitchen, feeling baffled. "Remy? What... do you have any idea what has Logan in this mood? Not that he is being unpleasant, just... He seems a bit..."

There was amusement dancing in Remy's eyes. "I know what got into him. But that is a matter for Logan, not for me to share. I don' think he's ready to talk about it yet."

"Do you think that he'll be ready to talk about it before Clarice's graduating?" Ororo looked over, wondering how much Remy knew of Logan's private thoughts and desires. How much of himself was Logan willing to share with her friend?

"Not a lot of it that he's mentioned, Stormy. But I can read people. I think he'll say something before then." Remy still seemed far too amused.

"I suppose there is nothing else to do but wait then." She sighed, sipping at her own coffee, gentled by the cream.

end part 25.


	6. parts 26 to 30

"Did you have a good lesson on making things explode?" Clarice asked Remy as they prepared for their morning run.

"Oui, very good lesson. Remy make all kinds of t'ings go boom, an' play wit' how different t'ings boom. Metal work different den wood or paper, an' plastic be de last resort… de stench…" Remy shook his head. "Plastic not be good for burnin', petit."

Clarice could only giggle.

"More running. You only get to talk if you can do it while running," Logan reminded them.

For a while, there was only the sound of feet hitting the ground, of breathing in the morning air, and the scattered birds among the trees. It was peaceful, tranquil… and it wouldn't last very long.

"Logan? Why don't you have a girlfriend?" Clarice asked.

For a moment, Logan ground his teeth together, wondering why he wanted people to like him enough to talk to him anyhow… Reminding himself that there was a difference between 'not wanting people to pry into his personal life' and 'terrified of being near him', Logan said "I suppose it comes down to fear. A little of mine and a lot of theirs."

"What's there to be afraid of?" she asked

"I had a girlfriend. Things seemed… I thought that everything was good. I got sent away for a couple weeks, and when I came back, she'd found someone else. I lost my temper and hurt him," Logan decided not to tell Clarice how badly he'd injured Warren the damned arrogant playboy Worthington. "What if I date someone else and they decide to replace me like that? She didn't even tell me first, she just moved on."

"I suppose that would be pretty bad," Clarice admitted.

Remy shook his head, and offered his own opinion, "Dere be a number of people in de world dat cheat you, in all kinds of ways. Always gonna be some dat cheat an' play you false. But not everyone be like dat. Trick is sorting out de cheats from de rest."

Logan considered what Remy had said, and part of him had to agree. Another part wanted to keep sulking like a wounded beast. "The other part is that since I have a nasty temper and the sharp claws, a lot of people are afraid to get too near me. I might have a temper tantrum and gut them."

"There's a big difference between hitting the guy who's kissing your girlfriend and hitting the guy who's looking at you funny," Clarice insisted. "Or the one who's just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Too quietly for Clarice to hear, Remy muttered "Rumors Remy hear say Warren do more den kiss de girl."

"Fear isn't always rational," Logan said. "It doesn't matter what you're afraid of, sometimes there's good sense to it and sometimes there isn't. Sometimes a little fear is good, but too much is bad. And people don't always have the right amount of fear."

While Remy and Clarice had their morning run with Logan, Ororo found herself talking with some of the newer students. The ones who hadn't had a chance to know Logan before the explosive ending of his relationship with Marie. Without going into details, she reminded them that being mutants didn't keep them from misunderstandings, or arguments. That each of them would have their own weaknesses and flaws. Leaning closer, she admitted that Logan had 'just a little bit of a temper', which caused a bit of laughter.

Perhaps these students wouldn't adopt him as a father-figure the way Clarice had, or tease him as casually as Remy. But she wanted to help them stop cringing away from him. To ease them out of watching him as if he was going to attack at any moment. To convince them that he was a person, not a frightening beast held in reserve in case of enemies.

It wasn't the first time that she'd tried to work on that with the students. Nor was it something that she limited to the recent arrivals. For that matter, she was subtly trying to convince them that all of the senior members were people – with individual strengths and flaws. Real people who were allowed to have problems, allowed to not be perfect. She hoped that she was making progress with them.

"Ororo?" Hank's voice had a hint of frustration and confusion to it, not that most would notice. "Could you perhaps help me sort out a small problem?"

"Of course," she walked towards him. "I assume that this problem isn't a technical matter, as I am not an expert on electronics, medicine, or the intricacies of biochemistry."

"We have acquired several medical instruments and devices in preparation for Marie's impending delivery. However, while I hold the title of Doctor, it does not apply to direct medical or surgical intervention, and certainly not to childbirth. As I am nearly to the point of pulling my hair out in frustration, I was hoping that you might have some advice."

"Perhaps we should simply find a midwife? If not for a permanent addition to the staff, then as a medical consultant. Ideal would be a mutant midwife or a midwife with a mutant child, someone that would have a vested interest in being trustworthy, above and beyond the oaths of healers. While I am not aware of anyone beside Marie who will need a midwife, it would be quite foolish to think that nobody else will," Ororo offered.

"A sensible suggestion, and a disturbingly valid observation," Hank mused. "I will speak to some of my associates who are in a more whole-bodied aspect of medicine, and we shall see if we can find someone suitable."

"Good luck with that, and I shall hope that someone can be found before Marie is due to deliver. While she has achieved a good amount of control during normal events, I am given to understand that childbirth is known for reducing if not eliminating one's self control… Having her deliver in an ordinary hospital could be very harmful for the staff," Ororo cautioned.

"Quite," he agreed. "If you could speak to some of the students, or look at their files concerning relatives, I will speak to the Professor about searching for a mutant midwife…"

End part 26.

What Logan didn't realize was that Clarice had decided that it wasn't right that he was so alone. It wasn't right that so many people avoided him and got unreasonably nervous around Logan, whom she thought was wonderful. In fact, she had decided that what he really needed was a girlfriend – make that a better girlfriend than the one that he'd had before. Someone who would see that he was wonderful, and stay with him, and maybe, just maybe get married to him and give her a few almost little siblings.

But Clarice wasn't content to decide that Logan should have a girlfriend. Since he didn't seem to be in any hurry to find himself someone, Clarice decided that she'd have to find a woman smart enough and sensible enough to date Logan. Then maybe they'd work out. She was well aware that sometimes, being smart and sensible didn't make two people a couple – they had to fit together, to have that sort of spark that took things from being friends to wanting to be more. A spark that was difficult to predict and harder to ignore.

"Remy? Can you help me with something?" Clarice went to her adopted big brother.

"What you want Remy to help wit'?" He grinned at her, leaning back on one of the benches in the gardens.

"Logan needs a girlfriend. A good one, not someone silly and too afraid. But," Clarice paused, glancing down before peering up at Remy through her eyelashes, "I don't know most of the women old enough for him. Can you help me figure out who'd be right for him?"

"You been takin' some sort o' lessons on how to wrap hommes 'round your finger?" Remy countered.

"He deserves better than to be all alone," Clarice ignored the question of studying manipulation.

"Remy not arguin' dat. What sort of femme you t'ink he needs?" Remy grinned at her. Of the many people at Xavier's, Remy LeBeau was one of the few who had extensive experience with people attempting to manipulate them.

"She needs to be smart enough to know that his temper doesn't mean he'll hurt her, and that there's more to him than just the really good fighter with the claws. Someone brave, and stubborn, and willing to argue if she believes in things," Clarice frowned, one hand making little gestures as she considered.

"Femme needs a strong will to deal wit' Monsieur Logan, else dey always do what he wants until she go away," Remy agreed. "She also needs to be confident 'bout her looks an' appeal. Logan not de sort of homme to play games about who's prettier."

"Snow White's too young and the Queen Stepmother's too insecure. And…" Clarice sighed, before murmuring, "He's not the sort to be Prince Charming for a Disney princess. Most of them aren't strong enough for him, and while some of the villainesses are sort of cool, he needs someone to be with him, to fight for him, not someone else trying to kill him or use him to take over a country."

"I t'ink Logan be one of de first to say he is not Prince Charming," Remy chuckled. "No, the way to find him someone not be found in Disney stories."

Clarice paused, looking distractedly off to somewhere beyond Remy's shoulder. Her lips twitched and then she started to giggle.

As Clarice kept giggling, Remy asked, "What be so amusing?"

"I was picturing Logan with various Disney princesses. They'd start twirling and singing and there he'd stand, frowning at them with his arms crossed…" Clarice managed around the giggles.

"Probably muttering dat he not gonna start singing wit' dem, hmmm?" Remy started snickering as well.

The pair of them left the gardens, still snickering at the image of Logan confronted with a Disney princess.

End part 27.

Logan was walking back to the house after Clarice's morning fighting lesson. She was getting better, though the biggest improvements were her stamina and confidence. Of course, confidence and stamina could be enough to win, sometimes. For the other times… that was why he was teaching her the skill. While he wouldn't call her a master of any sort of fighting art, she was pretty good for a girl her age.

Remy was a whole different sort of lesson, and there were good reasons to teach them separately. Remy needed a skilled sparring partner, and someone to help him branch out from brawling with some acrobatics and dirty tricks to… well, more polished acrobatics and dirty tricks. Logan was teaching Remy some ninja-moves that he'd learned God-only-knew-when, and helping him work on speed and endurance. While Remy did have a point that all you had to do was hit someone hard and fast enough for them to go down, Logan had countered with all that someone had to do was have a radio or a dozen or so other guys with them for Remy to become toast. Remy had more than enough things in his past to not want to be captured, and apparently more than one person who might want to catch him.

Logan hadn't demanded details, but he'd said that if Remy wanted to talk, he'd listen. He'd even provide beer. So far, Remy had talked a little, but Logan didn't think they'd done more than hint at some of the deeper, uglier things. Something about a trip to Paris, his 'first serious femme', and 'a bit of youthful stupidity'. Remy would tell him more if and when he was ready, and Logan could be patient.

"Ahh, Logan? Do you have a few hours or so? I need a few more hands to finish the repairs to the Danger Room…" the voice of Dr. Hank McCoy caught his attention.

"If it's nothing too complicated, I can help. I can hold things in place and pass tools, but if it involves anything too fiddly…" Logan gave a half shrug.

"You have mentioned," Hank murmured. "The electronics are mostly done, though I still need to replace a few sensors. For that I need someone to hold things, pass tools, and hand me one of the sensor units at certain times."

"That much I can do," Logan agreed.

What he should have considered was that despite the wide shoulders and all over blue fur, Hank McCoy was a very, very smart man. One that paid attention to things that happened in front of him, as long as someone had pried him out of the labs first. Hank had noticed the effects of helping teach Ororo's students.

"I am delighted to see that working with Remy and Clarice has helped you settle yourself a bit. You were… having some troubles," the blue doctor offered.

"Clarrie's a good kid," Logan passed Hank one of the fancy sensors. "What she needs is someone who can teach her a few things that she needs to know. Confidence, help her with her stamina. She also needs to get it through her head that there isn't a damn thing wrong with the fact that she's purple, and anyone who can't understand that needs their ass kicked."

"That might not be the best reaction in all situations," Hank was fighting not to laugh.

Logan shook his head, "Now you're going into playing nice with people, politics, and public relations. That just means there might be more of them, with staff and money to make it trickier to kick their asses. It's still the simple solution."

"And what about Remy, and his abilities? I don't mean to pry…" Hank trailed off, manners warring with curiosity.

"He's got a good head on his shoulders, and he's been through enough trouble to have picked up a bit of sense. Too bad he's also got a taste for excitement and danger," Logan passed Hank a screwdriver. "I'm working with him outside. Progress is being made, and nobody's needed the medlabs."

"Always a good thing. By preference, simple training should never result in someone needing the medlabs," Hank agreed.

Logan snorted, trading Hank a hammer for the screwdriver. He watched as Hank finished the adjustments and replaced the wall panel over the sensor. As long as the sensor was a simple modular unit, he could probably replace one on his own, though he doubted that he'd understand how it actually worked. The data flow from the Danger Room was so detailed, and had a range beyond any possible contact or simple auditory… Maybe he understood more than he thought.

"Would it be prying to ask your thoughts on Remy's abilities?" Hank asked, examining the next sensor.

"You've seen him use them. Some sort of thermo-kinetic charge funneled into an inanimate object…" Logan shook his head, trying not to let himself dwell too much on the possibilities.

"I have seen his cards. How do you think this room got broken?"

"He's dead-certain that it could be very dangerous. That sort of certainty… Remy's seen people die. He knows just how fragile life can be. He hasn't talked about it, but it shows. And he thinks that his ability could possibly inflict fatal injuries," Logan gave a shrug, hoping to suggest that maybe Remy just worried too much. His own suspicion was that somehow, something had happened, and Remy's power had resulted in something spectacular and awful. Massive property destruction, perhaps even deaths. If that was the case, something like that – especially if Remy had been young – could be very traumatic. Worse if that had only been part of a bigger, messier set of events. After all, things got interesting around Remy, why wouldn't it have started when he was young? Of course, anyone who'd talked to Remy or watched him fight could tell that Remy considered his ability to carry a heavy punch.

"Considering that it was his power that damaged the Danger Room, I must agree with him. It would be possible to seriously injure or kill someone with his cards. When you add in the possibility of starting fires or toppling other objects due to the explosions… Remy could be quite destructive with that power," Hank admitted.

Logan nodded. He wanted to test Remy very carefully with some of the shards from the clay targets. There would be many different sizes, and if the size of the explosion was related to the size of the charged object… Maybe he could get an idea just how big of a boom Remy could make. Or perhaps smaller, with precision would be a good direction for Remy to take. "That's why he needs to learn control. The other big part is to make sure he isn't afraid of his power."

"I am well aware of how disastrous that can be," Hank's words were a low whisper, filled with old memories and guilt.

"For those who do things instead of people like you or me who just are different, your emotions can have a hell of an impact. If you think you can, if you think there will be problems…" Logan paused. He could remember bits and fragments that hadn't been at Xavier's, and there had been dozens of students that had needed to learn to believe in themselves and their powers. "Your abilities are all physical. It doesn't take any concentration or practice for you to be blue or furry. Jean… Jean and 'Ro are two examples of needing to believe in who they are and what they can do."

"Amazing how little effort it takes to have hair everywhere," Hank's voice was bitter.

Logan waved a hand, unfastening the next wall panel. "All the meditation in the world wouldn't have helped Marie if she hadn't believed that it would work. If something ever happened and Remy believed that his power would run wild if he got upset…

"I see your point," Hank murmured.

Hank watched in surprise as Logan pulled out the next ruined sensor. Logan had repeatedly insisted that he wasn't good at what he termed 'the fiddly bits', or things that required more thinking than action. But it had been Logan who'd devised a program that enabled Marie to learn to control her mutation. Logan who had devised the effective, if brutal, tactics that had worked on several missions. Logan who had apparently possessed an astonishing amount of information about art history. Logan who had once been some sort of military operative, based on what Hank had deciphered from those partial records retrieved from Alkali Lake.

Logan who was nowhere near the fool that many assumed him to be, based on his gruff behavior and direct fighting strategy.

"Ready to put the next one in? I don't know how all the fiddly bits go for these."

"Of course," Hank stepped forward to install the sensor. "I have confidence that you will be most beneficial to both Remy and Clarice. Her ability to teleport… I wonder what could be done with that?"

"If she can get her speed and visualization up to task, and the endurance for it, she'll be damn near untouchable in a fight. I knew a guy who could do that, once upon a time. Can't remember if he was on my side or not, but I remember watching him, being frustrated as hell trying to tag him… I think, though I'm not sure, that he's where I got the hat I wore when I first came here. If she can take someone with her, or send things," Logan fell silent, his mind spinning out many possibilities that could happen with abilities like that. Clarrie was too nice a girl for most of them, but… Maybe this other teleporter hadn't been so nice?

"Teleportation is a fascinating ability. I wonder if hers is primarily psionic, or if there's a physiological component…"

"Remember not to make people feel like they're test subjects. It isn't a nice feeling," Logan put a bit of growl to his words. While he knew that Hank wouldn't do that on purpose, he also knew that scientific curiosity could be terrifying. He'd rather face a dozen soldiers with guns.

"I will try to avoid that," Hank mumbled, his ears twitching.

End part 28.

Logan felt vast relief to be in the peaceful outdoors by the time that he and Hank had finished replacing all the defective sensors in the Danger Room. This had also meant testing most of the ones near the damaged area. The whole thing had been tedious, time consuming, had filled with minor electrical shocks when a wire carried current and he missed with a screwdriver or his finger slipped. However, he was fairly certain that he'd worked with remote sensors before, probably for some much less virtuous purpose. Back before the metal claws.

He definitely wanted time away from electronics, labs, and administration. Not only was he away from all that, he had the perfect reason. This was where he was training Remy with his power. Something that the senior members of the school and the Teams agreed was necessary. Not only that, but it had already been firmly proven in the form of a half destroyed Danger Room that the normal methods being used for the other students wouldn't work. The wonderful outdoors, impending explosions, and the certainty that they wouldn't be interrupted for anything less than a full scale siege of the mansion – what could be better?

Just because he would enjoy aspects of this didn't make it less serious. Logan had a plan, fairly flexible, but it was a plan. They'd determined that the nature of the material mattered for Remy's explosions. Now it was time to see if there was a discernable difference based on weight. He'd spent some time gathering up broken shards of the clay targets, sorting them into size categories. They weren't precise and exact, they definitely weren't matching shapes. But this was rough information, anything more precise could be tested later.

"It time for Remy to make more t'ings go boom?"

"Yup," Logan gestured towards the heaps of shards. "I got a plan for today. The first part, you'll be charging different size broken bits, and we see if different bits make different size booms. We can see if the shape matters."

"From making dese go boom, you gonna get all dat info?" Remy moved closer, looking at the clay shards.

"Don't go through the whole mess of them just yet. There's still the second part," Logan cautioned.

"An' what dis second part be?" Remy lifted the first shard and it began to glow.

"Scott can vary the strength of his eye-beam. Jean can toss a car or move an egg with her telekinesis. They can both vary the force, the effect of their power. Piotr can only change into metal, and while he can change faster or slower, the metal's always the same. The second part will be trying to see if you can make a bigger or smaller boom with the same size piece by trying to change the charge you give them," Logan tossed Remy another broken piece. "And if it seems that you can we see if putting less of a charge means it tires you out less."

Remy grinned as he charged another piece, "All dat from broken targets?"

"Yup." Logan pulled out a notebook and a pencil, jotting a few basic notes that he'd already explained to Remy.

"You gonna be able to put dat into the stuffy terms for Monsieur Bête?" Remy glanced at Logan.

Waving a hand towards Remy, Logan said, "You just make them go boom, I'll put it into a report."

"Maybe Remy should tell you 'bout de talk Remy an' Clarrie have dis morning. We talk about Disney movies, an' how you would fit into dem…"

End part 29.

Logan was in a good mood as he headed back to the mansion. He had a stack of notes, and wanted a shower, but all in all, he was feeling good. Especially since he kept picturing himself in one of those silly Disney movies. He'd scare Snow White to death just by saying hello, though her step mother… she seemed like the sort that would be passionate, high maintenance, and inclined to hold a grudge if it wasn't her idea to split. Something whispered that he'd known women like that… may have dated some of them. Maleficent, the villainess from Sleeping Beauty, he knew exactly who that distinctive, devious shape-changing woman reminded him of, though he didn't think that Mystique could turn into a dragon. The girl from Disney's version of Beauty and the Beast had some potential, but he'd probably be all wrong for her. If her ambition didn't get in the way, he could maybe see something with Ursula – confident, passionate, sensual, cunning... nah, he'd probably become a liability to her ambition somewhere along the line and then he'd find himself with another furious ex trying to remove him.

There was also the fact that he didn't – shouldn't – sing. Nobody could be a Disney leading man unless he could sing, and possibly dance.

Though the fact that his not entirely gone memories were associating Disney villainesses with exes… Just what all had he been doing before that lab got him into their clutches? And maybe he should be asking just how they did it?

"You seem to be amused, Logan. Is it something that you could share?" Ororo's voice from the flowers caught his attention

"I am not cut out to be a Disney hero," he informed her. "Remy and Clarrie had a long talk about it this morning, and Remy told me the high points while he made things go boom."

"A Disney hero?" Ororo blinked, looking at him. After several moments, she chuckled, "I can't picture you as a Disney hero either."

"I don't dance very well, and I shouldn't sing. Ever," Logan shook his head.

"But I thought you were the best at what you do," Ororo grinned at him.

Logan smiled, enjoying the fact that she would tease him. "Have you ever heard me sing?"

"No…" Ororo admitted.

"There's a reason for it."

"You can't be that bad at it!"

Logan shook his head, "Yes I can. I sound more like a wild animal telling the rest of the world to get out of my territory than anything else. What I can do is help a twitchy Cajun work on his abilities, and take notes about explosions."

"Are you and Remy making progress?" She reached over, brushing her hand over his cheek, "There was a bit of ash on your face."

"He's not as nervous as he started out, we're learning some useful things about his ability, and I apparently know quite a lot about explosions," Logan explained, leaning a little towards Ororo. He wouldn't mind if there were more ashes, if she was going to wipe them away.

"You know more than some want to give you credit for," Ororo's voice was soft, and she moved a little closer, her body not quite touching his own. Her hand settled at his shoulder, as light as a resting butterfly.

"I was a grown man with a life of my own. Apparently a long and interesting life," Logan offered.

"The interesting part hasn't changed," Ororo was looking into his eyes.

Logan looked at her, his mind spinning. He wasn't a Disney hero, and never would be. But that didn't mean that he couldn't be someone's hero. And he found himself wanting to be hers. He considered the possible advantages and problems with what he wanted to do. It was risky, dangerous…

Pulling Ororo closer, he kissed her.

Ororo relaxed against him, her body pressing against him. One hand cupped behind his head, fingers tangling in his hair and holding him close. Her other hand was still on his shoulder, but rather than a butterfly touch had become a firm grip. She tasted of tea and rain…

Eventually, the kiss ended, and she whispered against his lips, "I do not require someone that can sing or dance. I will be yours if you are mine, and I will not be so foolish as to let you go over a picture or a misunderstanding."

"Sounds good to me, 'Ro." For the moment, Logan decided that life was damn near perfect.

End part 30.


	7. parts 31 to 34

Neither of them started singing their feelings for the world to hear, though Logan insisted that for his part, this was an act of mercy. They didn't start using too-sweet tones and silly babble when they talked to each other. Despite the occasional passionate whim, they didn't start giving public displays, with hands all over each other as their lips and tongues attempted to make them one being.

This change in their relationships, the beginning of a romantic relationship instead of professional or simple friendship, did not show in an increased awareness of where the other was at any given moment. Logan's kiss had not been the spark of new feelings, but rather the unveiling of feelings that had been there for some time, for both of them. They already had a strong awareness of where each other would be, of their presences in a space. But they would sit a little closer, enough that their legs might touch, that the warmth of their bodies would caress their skin.

They hadn't kissed in front of anyone yet. Not out of any sense of shame, or unworthiness. Part of it was from the desire to keep some shreds of privacy, to be able to touch or not touch without comments or critiques. Logan still marveled that Ororo would want to be with him, would want him for her own and want to be his… Ororo, though she seemed confident, had not had the experience with relationships that some of the others at the mansion had enjoyed. They would move on their own schedule, to their liking. Their liking meant taking time to relax outside together, watching the clouds or enjoying Ororo's garden, their hands holding each other, or with Ororo's head resting on Logan's shoulder.

Remy picked up on it immediately. He offered them both quiet congratulations, despite the remains of his own interest in Ororo. If she was happy with Logan, he wouldn't try to take her away – she wasn't a prize to be won or stolen. Though if their relationship fell apart, he'd be there, ready to console her. And maybe he'd test if those metal claws counted as part of a living thing or as scrap metal…

Clarice didn't know that her chosen parents had started to relate to each other in that way. That there was starting to be a chance that they might become parents in truth, with their own biological children. Not until she went back to the garden one afternoon and glimpsed white through a shrub, until she peered between the leaves to see Logan give Ororo a kiss. She skipped out of the garden, her idea of finding a flower or three to take back to her room forgotten. Instead, she made her way to her room, leaning on her bed and whispering to her sweet scented rag doll about how her parents were finally starting to see that they would be wonderful for each other. Clarice wasn't about to be the one to spill this to the rest of the school – when Ororo and Logan wanted to share, they could tell people themselves.

Most of the school did not know or care what had mellowed Logan. They simply breathed a sigh of relief that his formidable temper had relaxed, that he did not glare so much or growl when he felt someone had been foolish or stupid. A few that had been there when he and Marie had first become involved noticed the similarity in mood. While few of them understood the appeal, they just let it go as 'to each their own tastes' and 'not their place to interfere'. Most didn't feel close enough to Logan to pay much attention to the causes of his happiness.

Charles Xavier was feeling quite tempted to use his powers for… not precisely gain, but the satisfaction of his curiosity. While he didn't begrudge Logan any measure of happiness, it was unexpected. While Logan's initial anger at the end of his romance with Marie had been a burning inferno of pain and betrayal, the almost suicidal depression that had followed had been more dangerous. Seven students had been identified as having a measure of empathic ability when they had picked up on that bleak mess, two of them having actually attempted to kill themselves. Every psi in the area had been relieved when that feeling ebbed away, even those who didn't know that it had been Logan. Once that intense emotion had faded, Charles had been forced to admit to himself that he hadn't expected Logan to be capable of such feelings. That admission had been a private source of shame to him. Now that Logan was feeling happy, Charles was curious. He wanted to know what had brought such joy to the man who had been mired in despair only a few months ago. Sometimes, having ethics could be quite frustrating.

It was a few weeks after Logan and Ororo had started dating that two recruitment missions were organized. The first was organized by Professor Charles Xavier, who sent Scott and Jean to talk to a powerful mutant that he'd located with the assistance of his Cerebro unit. He'd identified a mutant named Jonothan Starsmore as what he termed an Alpha-level mutant, someone with impressive powers that could easily become very dangerous if left untrained. Especially since young Jonothan seemed to be a strong psi and have some sort of affinity for fire… The second was much quieter, organized by Dr. Hank McCoy. One of Hank's fellow biochemists had told him about a woman named Molly Gedeon, a certified midwife. Of particular interest to Hank was the fact that Molly's eldest child seemed to have blue hair. He asked Ororo if she would go talk to the woman and offer her a job at the facility, or at least a contingency arrangement.

Ororo watched as Scott and Jean prepared to leave the mansion, their uniforms under more ordinary clothing. That suggested the chance for some sort of danger, and the desire to blend with ordinary people. They seemed nervous, but also hopeful, prompting her to ask, "And where are you going today?"

"The Professor found another powerful mutant. He wanted us to see if he'd join us at the school," Jean explained. "But since he's only recently manifested his powers, we need to be prepared for his power not being under control."

"Travel safely then," Ororo replied.

Ororo hoped that her own trip would go well. Hank's friend had advised a Thursday visit in the early afternoon, with the claim that barring unforeseen labor and delivery from one of her patients, Molly Gedeon should be at home. There had been fairly good directions, leaving Ororo confident that she could find the woman's home. She still wasn't certain why Hank thought that she was the best choice for this trip, but she would go.

Just over an hour later, Ororo Munroe found herself parking near a small suburban home, with tall shrubberies adorned with tiny yellow flowers, and clumps of tall leaves that she suspected belonged to some sort of irises. She walked to a white painted door, pressing the doorbell as she murmured, "Now to hope that Hank knew what he was doing when he asked me to be the one to talk to her…"

End part 31.

As the bell rang, Onoro heard the sound of feet pounding over the floor and a child's voice calling, "I got it!" Without thinking about it, she found herself smiling, wondering if the running child understood the possible dangers of opening doors without knowing who was on the other side. How old was the child? Would Molly Gedeon be upset that a child, presumably Molly's child, would be trying to open the door?

The door opened, revealing a child of perhaps ten, with dark blue hair and lighter blue eyes, a smudge of ketchup on his cheek and more on his fingers. "Who're you?"

With a smile, she replied, "My name is Ororo Munroe, and I'm looking for Molly Gedeon. Is she here?"

Turning from the door, the boy called, "Ma! There's a lady here looking for you! Were you expecting a Munroe?"

"Timmy, how many times have I told you not to open the door unless you know who's there?" the woman's voice preceded her.

A few moments later, the woman came into view. She had the same blue eyes as the child, now identified as Timmy, and her close-cropped hair was darker, a glossy black that looked almost blue. Clad in a grey set of the particular style of clothing known as medical scrubs, the woman was wiping her hands on a small towel. With a glance over Ororo, she spoke again, "I'm Molly Gedeon. Is there something that you needed?"

"I wanted to talk to you in your professional capacity," Ororo offered. "May I step inside?"

"Of course, though you hardly look in need of a midwife at the moment," Molly gestured for Ororo to come into the house. "Please don't mind the mess."

Ororo's own glance at Timmy proved that his eyebrows were also blue. She stepped inside, glancing at the home, which looked lived in and welcoming.

The boy grinned at her, revealing that he was missing a tooth just at the edge of his smile. "What, you've never seen anyone with blue hair before?"

"Actually, one of my friends, the one who told me about your mother, has blue hair. But he has much more of it that you," Ororo countered.

"Really?" Timmy whispered, his expression torn between dismay and being very impressed.

"Oh yes. In fact, he has so much blue hair that he calls it his fur," she offered.

"Timmy, go finish your fries and then wash your hands," Molly insisted. Turning her attention back to Ororo, Molly continued, "Now, what brings you here today, Ms. Munroe?"

"I represent a special school for gifted individuals. It has recently come to our attention that there is a gap in our medical associates. My friend Hank talked to some of his colleagues and offered your name," Ororo gave the basic answer, expecting questions.

"A friend with blue hair. A school for gifted people," Molly paused, her eyes resting on Ororo's own pale hair. "By chance when you say gifted, do you mean mutants?"

Ororo nodded.

"I almost hate to ask, but you said you represent a school. I'm a midwife," she prompted.

"We have students of all ages, though most are in their teens and early twenties, since not everyone is aware of their mutation from the beginning, and many manifest during puberty. Some of the students have nowhere to return to, either because they had nowhere to begin with or their parents have rejected them because of their genetics. We also have several rapid response teams for problems," Ororo sighed, "And being a mutant does not eliminate the desires for more intimate company. One of the people with nowhere to return to is now expecting. There is some concern that her mutation might make a hospital delivery unwise."

"Do you have many pregnancy issues at your facility?" Molly asked. "And this woman – is the concern due to physical complications or due to her mutation giving her unusual abilities?"

"To the best of my knowledge, Marie is the only person expecting at this time. We do have other couples, and it is possible that some of them might be more inclined to start families if they didn't need to worry about problems at a hospital," Ororo admitted. "And the complications would be due to her abilities."

"Not an uncommon concern among mutants. She wouldn't be the first mutant that I've assisted," Molly paused, and then asked, "Does your facility have any method for determining the likelihood of abilities? I know that Timmy is a mutant; the blue hair is a bit of a give-away. What I don't know is if he will develop anything other than blue hair in more places when he gets older. I'm guessing that is the sort of special training this school offers?"

"We do offer such training, but I'm not aware of any method for determining such abilities in advance," Ororo admitted. "Did you encounter problems with your previous mutant deliveries?"

"The most trouble I've encountered had to do with unhappy partners, not unhappy mothers. You don't need to worry about me," Molly laughed.

Ororo heard a noise, and glanced over to see a smaller child looking into the room, attempting to be stealthy in the completely ineffective way that many children used. Wide blue eyes and the same inky black hair as Molly looked in before the child ducked back behind the wall. "As mutation is genetic, it may run in families. Have you considered the chance that Timmy might not be the only mutant in your family?"

Molly chuckled, "I have. Perhaps this school will offer training for any of my family that need it in return for my attending the births for any of the people there, and we shall both hope that those births are to adult mothers?"

"I can certainly share that hope," Ororo agreed. "I have been given the authorization to negotiate within reasonable limits, and I think that your suggestion is quite reasonable. Would you like to arrange a visit to the school so that you and your children may take a tour, and you can meet Marie?"

"That sounds good. When is she due, so I can start planning prenatal care and get an idea when to have everything planned and ready?" Molly produced a little notebook and a pencil.

"I believe she is five months pregnant, give or take a few weeks," Ororo replied. "We recently acquired a sonogram machine, with the understanding that it would have multiple medical uses rather than being devoted to prenatal inspections."

"Excellent," Molly smiled. "I think it might be best if I come over first, have an initial meeting with Marie and discuss her medical history and any concerns. That would also give me an idea of how to prepare before bringing my children over. There are three, and the only one that I can be certain about regarding genetic mutation is Timmy."

"We may not be able to test for the extent of mutation, but we have developed a fairly quick genetic test. There is one particular gene that all mutants posses, one that has been called the X-gene. As near as I can follow the explanation, this gene serves as a switch to enable the activation of mutant abilities. Without that gene, then no powers or physical differences manifest. A simple cheek swab and about thirty minutes of laboratory processing time can give a yes or no answer about the presence or absence of the X-gene," Ororo explained.

"Then let's have me come over on Saturday at noonish, and if things work out, I can bring the children on Tuesday?" Molly suggested.

Ororo nodded, and pulled one of the school's cards from her purse. "That sounds good. The address is on the card, and if you need directions…?"

Molly Gedeon studied the address for a few moments before assuring Ororo, "That won't be necessary, I'll be able to find the school."

"Until Saturday then," Ororo rose from the couch.

Returning to the car, Ororo decided that this had been a rather enjoyable and productive visit. A happy family with at least one mutant, a mother who was worried about her children and maintaining a useful calling, and she'd arranged suitable help for the school. What more could she ask for from this visit?

No, it was too early to be arranging for the services of a midwife for her own family. She and Logan had only admitted their feelings to each other within the last month, and neither had discussed the possibility of children. Beyond that, they hadn't actually had the chance to enjoy such activities as might lead to requiring a midwife. They'd shared kisses, and had shared some very pleasurable touches, but they hadn't actually… yet. She was certain that it was only a matter of time. Perhaps it was good to have found a midwife.

End part 32.

Ororo was still feeling quite pleased as she returned to the mansion. She arrived just in time to see Logan and Remy on their way towards the woods, presumably to whatever location Logan was using for Remy's training. Each of them held large boxes as well as bottles of water. She smiled towards them, giving a wave and a cheery "Good afternoon."

"Hey 'Ro. Your meeting go well?" Logan responded.

Still smiling, she replied, "Yes, it went very well. I will need to speak to Hank and - has Jean returned yet from the trip that she and Scott were taking? I believe there was a possible student that they were visiting…"

"Not yet. There's a group scheduled in the Danger Room, so Hank'll either be in his lab or checking out what they've done to the room if things get messy. But if the room's as solid as the specs call for, it should be fine," Logan offered.

"Do you know if he has the materials to run some tests to determine if someone has the X-Gene?" Ororo asked.

"The equipment's still there unless something disastrous happened to his lab. As for the solutions to test, I think that's some of his multi-purpose stuff, so he's either got plenty or there's more ordered so he doesn't run out," Logan shrugged. "Ask him. I just know it takes him about five minutes to set it up and another twenty to thirty for everything to process through before he can read it."

"Fair enough, I need to talk to him about that anyhow. I was meeting with someone to make medical arrangements, and I have the authority to make any reasonable bargain necessary. The reasonable arrangements include testing for the X-Gene in a few people, with possible training as needed," Ororo murmured. "I will see you after your boom-session."

"Of course you will. See you later, 'Ro," he grinned.

"Who Stormy be seeing today?" Remy asked, though it was debatable if the question was directed at Logan or Storm, or simply tossed out in hopes that someone would answer him.

For a moment, Ororo balanced rights to privacy with possible dangers and the fact that she didn't want Logan hurt by any more surprises involving Marie. "After various discussions, we've decided that there are too many risks involved with having Marie deliver in a normal hospital, so I was visiting a midwife."

"Might need to have Susie talk to this midwife. I know she's got a boyfriend in town," Logan commented.

"What be wrong wit' Susie having a boy in town?" Remy asked, with a flirtatious grin.

Logan countered, "I didn't say there was a problem with her having a boyfriend. But I don't know how careful they've been."

Ororo sighed, wondering if this was from his senses or from the students gossiping. Regardless, she needed to talk to Hank. At least he should be pleased that he wouldn't have to make further efforts at obstetrics, which she knew he had found mortifying thus far. Perhaps Molly would have more work that they'd thought…

Halfway down the stairs to talk to Hank, Ororo shook her head and murmured, "Susie isn't the only person dating. And while we try to teach the students responsibility from a young age, they are still young. There will be those who are not careful with their dating, who have sex without precautions. Sooner or later there will be another pregnancy."

"Hank? Are you in here?" Ororo called, tapping at the doorway of his laboratory. There was enough equipment that she couldn't see if he was somewhere in the back or one of the corners.

"Of course, dear lady. How was your visit to speak with the fair Molly?" Hank's voice came from the back, behind a large electronic thing that served some complex purpose.

"We came to what I feel is a very reasonable agreement. Part of it will require you to prepare whatever it is you need to test three people for the X-Gene. I agreed that if any of her family needed assistance learning to control mutant abilities that the School would have places for them, and she agreed to assist with any pregnancies that occurred at the school. She'll be here Saturday to meet Marie," Ororo explained.

"Three?"

"Unless there's a way to test for abilities. Her eldest child has naturally blue hair, so he's clearly a mutant. If he has more than blue hair, we will train him when he's older. The three tests…" Ororo paused before offering her best guess. "I assume for herself and her other two children."

"This means I don't have to…" Hank's murmur wasn't quite low enough for Ororo to miss. In a more ordinary voice, he spoke again, "I am most pleased that she has agreed to help us with such situations."

"You are saved from the necessity of practicing obstetrics," she agreed.

Ororo wasn't certain, but she suspected that Hank was blushing. "Yes, well… Let me begin the arrangements for the genetic testing. The tests aren't that complicated once everything is in place."

End part 33.

Ororo decided that she'd teased Hank enough about medical matters, especially as embarrassed as he seemed. For a moment, she was prepared to leave him in the lab. Then she remembered that Logan had said he'd been asked by Hank and the Professor to help Remy with his abilities. Surely that meant that he was keeping them up to date on the results? The best way to learn was to ask, so she looked towards him again and asked, "Have Logan and Remy had much luck with their alternative training program?"

"I would assume that they would be talking to you about their practices," Hank offered.

"Oh, they talk a bit about it, but the things they say aren't the same sort of discussion. There is much amusement at making things go boom, and I suspect that they may have smuggled some beer out to their training area. There was also something about Remy making the coffee in the morning," Ororo chuckled.

"Ah, yes. I suppose that would be a rather different approach to discussing their training," Hank allowed.

"I know that Remy seems to enjoy their sessions, which was not the case with the Danger Room," she mused.

"Logan has submitted the most unexpectedly thorough basic evaluation and continuing progress reports. He began with a meticulous analysis of the differing explosions that result from Remy charging different materials, and a discussion about the length of time plant matter must be separated from the living plant before it is dead enough for Remy to charge, as well as the differences in explosive output caused by changing the mass of the charged object. His program has been astonishingly thorough, especially when the only things he's used are materials already on hand and readily available," Hank adjusted his glasses. "Most promising is the fact that with Logan's help, Remy seems to be taking a far calmer attitude towards his abilities. He was rather afraid of them at first."

"Wonderful," Ororo smiled. Part of her was surprised and impressed by the news. Another part insisted that she should have expected as much – after all, it had been Logan who had helped Marie gain control over her power.

"Between that and the assistance that he's given with the repairs to the danger Room, there are depths of potential and skill in Logan that we have been ignoring. I feel most chagrined by the oversight as I, of all people, should know better than to judge by appearances," Hank admitted.

Ororo nodded, knowing how often people looked at Dr. Hank McCoy, saw the large frame covered with blue fur and tipped with sharp teeth and claws and assumed him to be little more than a muscle-bound brute. She remembered how often she'd been dismissed as a simple, helpless child back in Cairo, when she'd been a street thief. How many people saw Professor Xavier's wheelchair and dismissed him as a helpless cripple, or who assumed that a crippled body meant a feeble mind. "We should all know better than to judge on appearances."

"Logan has been of great help to both Remy and Clarice, as well as his assistance in enabling Marie to control her own ability. I have been wondering if we should have him help with more training programs, or perhaps take a few more personal students," Hank mused. "Then again, I suspect that he would not appreciate many of the students, as they seem to be noisy, impatient teenagers."

"It might be more accurate to say that most of the students would not do well with Logan as an instructor," Ororo countered.

"True enough," Hank chuckled.

With that parting exchange, Ororo left the labs. Her garden was calling her, and she had always found tending the many flowers soothing. It might also help her to daydream and ponder her relationship with Logan in peace. Just because they weren't ready to even discuss children didn't mean that she couldn't dream.

Ororo let her mind wander, dreaming about a lovely, peaceful life. There was a lovely house built into a hill, with beds of flowers and herbs growing near the door, and shorter ones in boxes beside the windows. The air held the warmth that she remembered from her childhood, though the hill and the nearby area was covered in lush grass. A pair of darkly tanned boys were wrestling on the ground, one with dark hair sweeping back in points and the other with close cropped white locks. Beside her was a daughter, no older than three, helping her pick some of the herbs from the garden. A stone-ringed fire-pit a short distance from the house had an antelope roasting on a spit, with Logan's watchful eye ensuring that the meat would not burn.

"Plants doing well?" Logan's voice

Ororo blinked, her mind dragged away from the idyllic vision of a home and life not dissimilar to the tribe that she'd lived with in Africa. A life with Logan, where she was the mother of his children, where there were no outside cares to trouble them. An impossible fantasy. Oh, parts of it might be very possible, but the whole idyllic carefree existence would be impossible. Even if only the troubles of arguing children and the dangers of life in Africa. She could feel herself blush as she murmured, "The plants are fine."

His arm slid around her waist, and he chuckled, "Daydreaming?"

"Perhaps a little," she admitted. "What gave me away?"

"That was the fourth time in the last twenty minutes that you watered that same shrub," Logan answered.

"Oh. Logan, had you considered…" Ororo paused, remembering how he and Marie had talked about a nice little house, about a family. About the classic settled down with a pair of children and a dog. "If you were to start a family of your own, how many children would you want?"

"Of our own, in addition to Clarrie and Remy?" He paused, looking thoughtful. "I guess that depends a bit on how many my wife wants to have. I've thought about having a boy, teaching him to track and hunt. 'Course, there's no reason a girl couldn't learn all that just as easy. I wouldn't be the one being pregnant and having babies, so I figure I'm not the only one to make that call."

"A good point," Ororo felt herself smiling. It gave her a warm feeling that Logan had said 'our own' instead of 'my own' when she'd asked about children. Yes, they'd been dating, yes, he'd held her heart for far longer than he knew, but neither of those would make him consider her as a possible mother of his children.

"But I have to admit that part of me thinks a large family might be nice," Logan admitted.

"Being an only child was rather lonely," Ororo sighed, leaning into him. Granted, she doubted that she'd have been able to keep a younger brother or sister alive in Cairo, if the collapse of the building that had taken her parents hadn't claimed a sibling, but it might have been nice not to be alone.

"It's been almost a month, but a few people have started to figure out that we're together," Logan commented.

"Really?" She didn't want to leave his embrace, and enjoyed the fact that he'd be perfectly willing to let her lean on his shoulder and talk for hours.

"Couple of them with enhanced senses can tell that we've been spending time together. Even the densest of them eventually figure out that it isn't all about missions," Logan's fingers had begun combing through her hair.

"Just how much can someone with enhanced senses tell about our relationship?" Ororo asked. Would they know about her fantasies? Would they know when she and Logan became… when they actually had sex?

"Depends on which senses and how good, and a bit on how much they pay attention to what those senses are telling them. Good enough senses and a strong understanding of what those signals mean can tell someone almost as much as a telepath can get. Who's been spending time with who, if they've been angry or afraid or if there's been sex," Logan paused before continuing, "I can tell when a person lies to me, when they're nervous, when they don't want to talk about what I'm asking about. I can tell when something makes them nervous, better than most of the telepaths around here."

"How much of that is your senses, and how much is experience reading people?" she asked.

"Some of both. The senses are a big help, but most of its stuff that anyone can learn if they're observant enough," Logan replied. "For me, the hardest part would be explaining what the little signs I'm noticing are instead of just what they mean."

"And what do you think about having a family of our own?" Ororo whispered, unsure what answer she would get or even what she wanted to hear.

"I like the idea. I'm not sure that we're quite ready to add a baby to what we have, and less sure that it's a good time and world to bring a baby into, but I still like the idea of a family. 'Course, I'd worry about someone going after you or our children if we had a family, worry about someone trying to hurt them or use them. And I keep feeling like I've got too many enemies out there that I can't be sure are dead enough… So now might not be the best time to start makin' babies, but sometime in the future… yeah."

"You do know there are ways to prevent conception," Ororo caught his hand as it wrapped around her waist. "While I don't think I have as many enemies hiding in the background as you, I agree with most of what you said."

"Think we should get married first?" He sounded thoughtful, as if his mind was wandering along pleasant thoughts.

"Was that a proposal?" Ororo twisted around to look at him.

Logan gave her a grin, and murmured, "If you have to ask, it must not have been a very good one. Let's try again. Would you like to marry me, 'Ro?"

"Yes," she kissed him before asking, "When?"

"I hadn't got that far," he admitted. "The first step is figuring out if I'd like that, then comes figuring out if you'd like that. If we both want, then we can figure out when and where. But maybe not anything too big?"

Ororo smothered a giggle at his admission. "I have no need for a large wedding. If I am marrying someone that I love who loves me, then that is enough. We can figure out when and where later."

"Good. Maybe we should plan for a when that we can follow with an extended honeymoon?"Logan nibbled at her lips.

"I like that idea," Ororo agreed.

End part 34.


	8. parts 35 to 39

As they had a small lunch out on the grounds near the lake, Logan kept thinking that there was some little detail that he was forgetting. With a bit of luck, he might remember it before whatever he'd forgotten caused more trouble, though his track record with trouble thus far suggested that trouble would find him, regardless.

It was when the thought crossed his mind that 'at least 'Ro isn't likely to go all crazy and try to demand some elaborate wedding of the century' that he realized what he'd forgotten. He'd sorted out that he'd like to marry 'Ro, and she'd agreed to marry him. They hadn't decided on a date or really on a location. But most women – at least in America – wanted a ring with a shiny stone on it when their man proposed. He had not offered Ororo Munroe a ring with a sparkly stone on it when he'd asked her to marry him. If she decided that he was slighting her, would she just frown, lecture, or zap him with a lightning bolt?

A lightning bolt… Rings normally conducted electricity quite well, would wearing a ring hurt if she called the lightning? After a few moments of trying to remember if he'd ever seen her do that while wearing jewelry, he drew a blank. Call wind, rain, and fog – yes. But he'd only ever seen her call lightning a handful of times, and they'd all been in uniform.

"Ro? Is it safe for you t' wear rings an' such? If someone like Jean has on a ring, that carries an electric shock. Then again, Jean can't call that shock down from the sky," he paused, looking at her and felt himself smiling. "I was wonderin' if you wanted us to go looking for a ring for you. Since you did say yes…"

"I can wear rings safely, though a powerful current may be harmful to certain stones," Ororo was smiling.

"That mean that we might go looking for a ring?" Logan moved his hand until it was resting at Ororo's shoulder, his fingers making little circles over her back.

"Perhaps a metal band without a stone," Ororo agreed.

"Whatever you want. I want you, a ring or no ring is a little thing for me," Logan admitted.

As he sat there with the beautiful woman who had stolen the remnants of his heart, Logan felt himself smiling. Life could be good again, and he felt like he belonged. Remy and Clarrie considered him family, cared about him, wanted him in their lives. 'Ro wanted to marry him, eventually have his children. He was starting to get along better with Hank, helping with repairs. Starting to feel like he belonged at this place.

Remy shook his head as he watched them. As much as he'd hoped that maybe there could be something between himself and the beautiful Storm, it didn't look like it would happen. She was with Logan, and wouldn't be parted for anything other than the most blatant offenses or death. Logan wasn't likely to die anytime soon, no matter how dangerous the missions he went on happened to be. And while Logan was many things, he wasn't stupid enough to betray or abuse Stormy.

Not that there wouldn't be times when he made her angry, or did things that frustrated or confused her. Logan was a man, and it was the nature of life that women sometimes got mad at the men in their lives. That men and women didn't always understand each other. Lord knew he'd learned that one from the many women he'd had in his life – family, teachers, friends and lovers. Women and men just didn't think the same way.

"Clarrie's going to be happy about dis," he murmured, walking away from the garden. He rather suspected that 'happy' was an understatement.

Logan had said that he wasn't suited to being a Disney hero, and that he'd be even less suited for any of the Disney princesses or the other Disney girls. That he suspected the Disney villainesses might be too close to some of his exes. Stormy was no more a Disney heroine than Logan was a Disney hero. They'd probably be good together.

"Remy needs to stop watchin' so many sappy movies. Maybe some more friends be a good idea as well." Walking back towards the mansion, he decided that he'd ask someone out for a date. Maybe that Betsy with the British accent? Or the reptile girl with the loud music? At worst, they'd say no. Slightly better, they'd have a date and decide things wouldn't work. Regardless, it would be a step up from peering through the shrubbery and feeling envious of someone else's love-life.

After all, Remy should make certain his life was going well. Worrying about the lives of those you care about was all well and good, but not to the expense of having your own life. A life of his own meant that he should try a little dating, have a little fun. Maybe he'd spike the coffee with pepper while he was at it. Life was short, why not keep people on their toes?

End part 35.

During the sparring session with Remy, Logan found things going in an unexpected direction. As much as the implied trust gave him a warm feeling, the question came as a complete surprise.

"Remy been thinkin' it be time to worry 'bout my own love-life rather than yours," the Cajun had commented, even as he tried to kick Logan's legs out from under him. "Been wonderin' about some of de ladies. Betsy, Sasha, Beverly, Theresa, Julia, Christy, Olivia… Got any advice?"

"Betsy had something for a while with Warren, she might fall for a bit of charm and a pretty face. But that's obviously not enough to keep her interest," Logan tried not to let himself get angry at Warren again. He managed to keep the claws in as he punched at Remy's head.

"Not sure Remy lookin' for anyt'ing serious," the Cajun admitted.

"Don't bother asking Sasha, you aren't the sort that she'd be interested in," Logan chuckled, remembering some of the things that he'd heard and smelled from that girl.

"Why not? Remy be charming homme, why not ask belle femme out for dinner?" Remy gave him a look of offended dignity that was almost convincing. It didn't go with the attempted sucker punch to Logan's gut.

"You'd have better luck with Sasha if you were a belle femme, that's why," Logan countered. "Talk to Beverly if you want a wild girl with a fondness for metal music."

"Sasha likes femmes?" Remy let a distracted smile cross his face. "Suppose dat be one argument Remy not gonna get around."

"Theresa's related to that Irish guy. The one who carries a gun, and shows up every so often to talk to Charlie about internationally wanted mutants. Just imagine what he'd do to you if things end badly before you ask her out. Julia's dating what's his name, the one with the tattoos up his arms. Christy has a crush on someone, I'm pretty sure it isn't on you, and she seems too serious for you. Olivia might be open to the idea, but she's a bit of a romantic. Tammy's been having an on and off and on again thing with the guy with the yellow motorcycle, the one with the Green Bay jacket. Rosalie's a sweet girl, but she might be scared off by you and your colorful past. Jean, Diana, Chloe and Helen are involved with people. You know that 'Ro and I are dating, and I think you're a bit old for the rest. I don't have any advice on how to ask someone out," Logan gave Remy a look, even as he threw him over his shoulder and towards a tuft of dry grass.

"Remy t'ought you weren't a Disney prince?" the words were teasing as Remy turned his landing into a roll and threw some acorns at him, which naturally exploded.

"I'm not. 'Ro's not a Disney princess either, even if she is my princess," Logan found himself smiling like a sap.

"Fair enough," Remy admitted. "You done t'rowing Remy around like a pair of dirty socks?"

"I guess so. Now on to making things go boom, and don't think I didn't notice those exploding acorns," Logan looked at Remy.

"Didn't figure they'd hit you. Maybe a distraction… You mad at me?" Remy ran one hand over his hair, glancing over at the branch where he'd left his trenchcoat.

"Nah. I noticed that they didn't have much charge to them, just enough to make a pop and a flare," Logan shook his head. He wondered if Remy had deliberately kept the charge that weak or if it was a coincidence – either way the explosions had been much smaller than Remy had shown before for wood of that weight.

"Been trying to do a weak charge. Sometimes a pop an' a spark be better than a big boom," Remy waved at the small scorch marks on the grass. "Don' want to set the woods on fire. Remy not have one o' dem healing factors like you."

Ignoring the comment about his healing factor, Logan gestured at one of the scorched places. "Sometimes a pop and a flare are enough. Sometimes you want to level the place right now. Good reasons to figure out how to vary your charge."

"Leveling de place…" Remy shivered.

"We aren't going to try that here. Best find somewhere that needs destroyed before we try that. And to make sure that we aren't caught in it," Logan insisted. "This is to teach you, not to turn you into blackened cooked Cajun."

"Don' wanna be cooked," Remy agreed.

Logan tossed Remy his coat. "People don't want to be burned, or cut, or whatever form of injury might be possible. But burns… if they're bad enough, they get the nerves and you don't feel any more pain. It just gets harder to move. For me, I heal after that. Eventually. Cuts might mess with your motion too, if it hits the nerves or the tendons, but I always find it more irritating when things look fine and just won't work for a while."

"Lessons from a healing factor?" Remy slid the coat on as he watched Logan. "Most of us can't heal so good."

"Figure out what's worth the pain, worth maybe being injured to you. It might take more for you than me, but there will be something, maybe someone that's worth it. You have to be the one who decides if something's worth that risk, that pain. Worth dying." Logan paused, thinking to the years that he could remember and the fragments that might have been memories from the years before. "Anyone who's a decent person has something that's worth it to them. Maybe someone."

"Dat's not always easy," Remy mused as they headed towards the gorge that they had started using for target practice.

"Life isn't always easy. Neither's growing up," Logan countered. Walking along the path, he considered those words. Growing up wasn't easy, and he seemed to be making more progress on that lately. Becoming a father-figure for Clarrie, a mentor for Remy. Helping Hank with the Danger room repairs. Getting involved with Ororo.

He had no idea how old he really was, or what sort of man he'd been before he'd lost his memories. But Logan suspected that it was more than time for him to become a responsible adult. Just not too stuffy and dull.

End part 36.

Logan sighed, leaning back in the chair on a little side porch. This particular porch had a splendid view of the sunrise, which meant that at the current hour of almost sunset, it was swathed in shadows. A wonderful place to sit alone and think. Only a small handful of people would ever consider looking for him here…

"I was wonderin' if you might be hidin' back here," Marie's accented words drawled from the door.

Logan sighed, remembering the days when he'd sat here with Marie, watching the sunrise. Back when he'd thought that they'd build a life together. Of course, she'd often been half asleep during the sunrise, snuggling against him with sleepy, half coherent noises. Back before those dreams of a future had shattered. Making a deliberate effort to keep his temper in check, he glanced towards her, "I hadn't expected anyone to be looking for me."

"They found a midwife. She came out t' meet me, an' we talked a little. Then she hooked me up to that ultrasound machine an' took a look at what's goin' on in here," Marie patted her stomach with one hand. "Turns out that I'm expectin' twins. Both of them seem pretty healthy so far, an' she thinks but won't swear to it that they're girls."

Logan blinked, unsure just what he should say. If he and Marie were still dating, this would be the time to be happy, and hugging, maybe kissing. Time to talk about names and wonder who they'd look more like, if they'd have Marie's mouth or his eyes. If they'd wind up with either of their parents' mutations. But they weren't dating anymore. Weren't going to be a happy family together. They didn't know if the babies were his or Warren's. If he was remembering his basic biology right, they might even be one his and one Warren's… "I'm glad that everything's going good for you, an' that you and the little ones are healthy."

"She said there was a test that they could do now, to identify the father. But it sounded sort of risky to me. It involves a long needle an' taking a cell sample from the baby… from both of them. I didn't want to take the chance that somethin' could go wrong with that," Marie made a gesture that combined a shrug with a protective arm across her stomach, which was starting to show her pregnancy. "I can't swear that I'll ever have another chance at bein' a mama, an' I don't want to do anything to make a bigger mess than this already is."

"Most people are afraid that they'll mess up when they first become parents. The ones who aren't worried are generally the ones who don't care," Logan offered. Part of him wanted to tell her that she didn't need to worry, that she'd do fine. Except that he didn't know that, had no idea how to take care of babies. "Besides, there's a lot of people here, someone's got to know something about babies."

"Y' aren't mad?" Marie looked at him, biting at her lip while she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

"Mad? Because you figure the babies'll be safer if you wait a few more months until they're born to figure out who's the daddy? Not mad about that at all," Logan shook his head. "I'm the last person who'd send you to take more lab tests or anything to do with needles unless there's no other choice."

Marie gave a small laugh, "I have to give you that one."

"If they are mine, either of them, I hope they look more like you. I'm not that great to look at, and I'd make an ugly girl. S'pose the eyes might not be bad, but they don't need anything like this mug," Logan offered that, in hopes that it would somehow make things less awkward. He didn't think it would work.

"Now, y' don't look that bad!" Marie tried to glare, though a smile kept slipping through around the edges. "Alright, it's a good thing that y' don't try to dress in drag or anythin', because you would make a rather big boned girl. But a daughter wouldn't have your shoulders. And I always liked your eyes."

Logan sat there, almost smiling. Despite everything that had happened between them, he did hope that things went well for Marie, that her babies were healthy. Regardless of who the father was.

For a while, she just stood there, the lights of the hallway backlighting her. After a while, she spoke again, "So, you an' Ororo?"

Logan nodded. "Yeah."

"I hadn't expected that. I mean, not that there's anything wrong with it, but… You're… and she's…" Marie faltered, her hands making gestures as if they could pluck the words from the air for her lips. "You're just so different from each other."

"Life's full of surprises. I hadn't expected it either," Logan almost reached for a cigar, remembering as his fingers brushed the pocket that smoke was supposed to be bad for babies and… well, bad for people without healing factors in general. "You might consider naming one of them for your mother. Traditional sort of thing to do. Or maybe flower names, those can be pretty. If you didn't have things in mind already. And if the babies are girls."

"I'll have to think about that. Names, I mean. It just seemed… I know this is real, that it's been real, but it was just…" Marie sighed, and looked down. "Part of me just kept expectin' to wake up an' this whole thing would be a dream. Baby names have been pretty far down the list."

Logan just nodded, all too familiar with feeling like something couldn't be real.

"I'll keep you updated on what's going on." Marie gave a tired smile and turned back into the mansion. As she was walking away, she murmured, "at least Logan is willing to know what's going on. To stay posted on what might be his kid… his kids. What am I gonna do with twins? An' there'd be no problem with a girl looking… well, sort of like him. But not with those shoulders."

End part 37.

Logan was still thinking about Marie and her pregnancy the next morning, when it was time to take Remy and Clarrie on their run. It wasn't that the idea had been constantly on his mind, but somehow or other his mind had circled back to that conversation several times. He might be a father in a few months. Marie was worried about becoming a mother. There was now a midwife in some level of association with the school. Marie might be the first to need such a person, but he doubted that she'd be the last. What sort of preparations would be needed for babies in the school?

"What's on your mind, Logan?" Clarrie's voice tugged at his attention.

"I had a talk with someone last night. You probably know that Marie's going to have a baby," Logan paused, suspecting that one of his almost-kids would have something to say.

"Most people know," Clarrie admitted. "Babies are awfully cute, and there haven't been any around here."

"What's her baby have t' do with you? The two of you aren' together anymore," Remy countered.

"Marie's going to have a baby, an' she's nervous about it. She's not sure what to do, how to take care of a baby, how much things will change. I can understand those worries," Logan didn't mention that he might be a father, that Marie's baby – no need to mention that the midwife said twins – might be his baby. "Either of you know anybody here with experience with babies?"

"Like babysitting? I'm a bit young for that," Clarrie offered. "I know they can't eat real food, and it takes a while before they can move, and you have to hold them very, very carefully."

"Remy don' have experience wit' de enfants. Perhaps Remy can find someone wit' experience, an' point them towards Marie for some advice?" Remy murmured. "Enfant can not help who be the parents, or what the parents do."

"Exactly. The baby didn't get itself into this mess, and there's no reason not to try to keep the baby from suffering. I think she'd welcome some good advice about babies." Logan paused before admitting, "And I don't think I know anything about babies."

"But I thought you knew something about everything," Clarrie grinned at him.

"Somet'ing you don' know about… T'ink dat makes Remy feel better," Remy started shuffling a deck of cards, and then smirked, "Lots of women like a man who knows somet'ing about de enfants."

"If I ever knew anything about babies, it was from Before, and in the bits that I haven't got back. I'll just have to learn it again," Logan shrugged. He had to admit to himself that he liked the idea of a family of his own, which meant that unless all of his family were strays that he brought in, like Remy and Clarrie, instead of his own children, or his and 'Ro's children, then there would be babies somewhere along the line. He wanted to be able to help with his own children. But right now, he had no clue what to do with or about an infant.

"It might not be a bad idea for all of us to have at least a little idea. And if babies can make as nasty a stench in their diapers as some of the jokes suggest, then maybe some of the kids will be a little more careful, so that they don't wind up with unexpected and unplanned babies." Logan shook his head, considering how reckless and impulsive some of the students could be with other aspects of their lives.

"As long as this doesn't wind up with some sort of flour bag or egg baby substitute sort of thing, then fine," Clarrie murmured. "It can't hurt to know more, and if we aren't ready now – and I know most of us aren't – then it's best to know that before it becomes a big issue."

"Makes sense," Remy nodded. "An' it's always better to start learning wit' someone else's instead of when you have your own."

"We can ask around, mention that her mom's not around to give her advice. If we're supposed to be there for each other, doesn't that include for babies as well as weird powers or being strange colors?" Clarrie sounded like she'd made her mind up about the matter.

Logan smiled, feeling proud of his kids. He'd given up on trying to keep them as just students, and just accepted Clarrie's declaration that they had become a strange sort of family. The truth was, it felt nice to be wanted as a father-figure. He wondered if he'd wind up as a father-type for Marie's babies, or if he'd just be one of many uncles. He wondered if he'd wind up with more students becoming adoptive children. If he'd have his own children, with Ororo. And a small part of him wondered if he'd had children Before, in the times that he didn't remember.

What he didn't want to admit was that the idea of being a full time parent to a tiny baby was more intimidating than fighting a giant robot that shot lasers and had the ability to step on a person and crush them like an empty beer can. He understood Marie's fears about her babies. And that was a challenge that so many people faced every day…

End part 38.

After the morning run with Clarrie and Remy, Logan took a quick shower and tried to sort out his thoughts. He wanted things to go well for Marie and her babies, but... While he could finally look back on their time together without aching for how it fell apart, he wasn't in love with her any longer. The hope of being the one she built a future with, with the two of them raising a family of charming children with her hair and maybe his eyes, had faded to no more than the memory of a dream. She could build a future without him, and no longer haunted his dreams. Beyond that, seeing her no longer felt like he was being stabbed with a dull blade in the guts, no longer gave him the burning ache of betrayal. He could look at her without seeing her kissing Warren, without feeling his heart shatter.

That felt good, and surprisingly lightening. Like he'd just dropped a heavy pack from his shoulders.

"Maybe that's this whole 'letting go' thing I keep hearing about," Logan mused.

His eye caught on a photograph of himself and Ororo, taken when they were leaning against one of the trees, and he felt himself smiling. Maybe it was just that someone else filled his hopes and dreams now, someone else that he wanted to build a future and family with. Another woman who made his pulse race and his insides flutter. How could he keep wallowing in his misery when he had the chance to build a life with Ororo?

As he made his way towards the Danger Room, he decided that it probably helped that Ororo was already a confident woman, secure in who she was and what she could do. Her sense of ability and self-respect wasn't tied in to their relationship. "A strong, determined woman. That's what I've needed all along."

"What's the plan for today, Hank?" Logan called as he approached the Danger Room, which had an interesting assortment of materials present. There were bits of paper, cardboard, wood, and even some chunks of coal and metal. Some were just sitting on the floor while others were on the mechanical arms that would turn them into moving obstacles or targets. At a guess, this would let them test both intensity, and precision. There was an odd scent to the air, like scorched flesh and something that wasn't quite fire or lightning, but a bit like both. Whatever it was, it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"Scott and Jean found us a new student, and we thought it might be prudent to test young Mister Starsmore's abilities in controlled circumstances. It seems that he has some form of energy projection, as well as some telepathy," Hank replied.

"Did you need some more of the sensors popped into place before the testing?" Logan offered.

For a few moments, Hank looked thoughtful, one clawed finger tapping at his chin. "I believe a few more sensors would not be amiss, my friend. The additional data about the frequencies and any temperature variances created by his power could be most intriguing."

Shaking his head, Logan pulled out a few more of the sensor arrays, as well as a few tools. As he began to place them in the corners of the Danger Room, he muttered, "Hank could've just said 'yes' like a normal person."

Logan wasn't expecting the young man who walked into the Danger Room as he was just closing the last panel. Rather, while the footsteps didn't surprise him, or the way that the scent of young man and scorched flesh and that not fire/lightning drew near, Jonothan Starsmore took him by surprise. Starsmore had the lean and lanky look that was common among teens that weren't done growing, and a shock of wild brown hair that acted as if it was infested with static and questioned gravity. His shoulders were hunched in a leather jacket that was zipped up to the top, with the high collar stiffened up to cover up to his chin, and the ends of a scarf trailed out the front, having been wrapped around Starsmore's neck and lower face. The overall effect suggested the poor boy was either freezing or preparing to hold up a bank.

"It appears that everything is ready for us to begin an initial testing sequence. Whenever you're ready, Mister Starsmore," Hank called.

-Right then. Should this guy step out of the room?-

The words arrived in Logan's mind having sidestepped his ears. Touching one ear, Logan sighed, remembering that Hank did mention that Starsmore was a telepath. Though why he couldn't just open his mouth and talk like most people… Then again, most people didn't wind up scarves like that. Had something happened to Starsmore?

-Too right, something happened. When this power first started, it felt like indigestion, and it just… burst out of me. – Reaching up, Starsmore started unwinding the scarf, and stuffed it into one of his jacket pockets. That caused a curious orange-yellow light to appear, shining up from under the jacket collar. When he folded the collar down, the actions revealed a roiling mass of orange-yellow energy spilling out from where his chin, lower jaw and throat should have been. – I haven't been the same since.-

"That explains using telepathy then," Logan murmured. He didn't ask, but suspected, from the young man's words and the scent of scorched flesh, that it had also been painful. It seemed Starsmore must have developed some measure of control, as the scarf and the jacket seemed unharmed.

-You're one of the few who's thought of that without going full of pity for the poor crippled boy. And yes, it hurt quite a bit.- The voice seemed different this time, fainter. As if it was only for Logan's ears, or rather, only his mind.

Logan stepped out to let them test the energy against some things. He glanced back to see the energy emerging from Starsmore, and turning the paper, cardboard and wood on the floor to ash. The energy curled around Starsmore, looking like a burning cloud.

At least he didn't seem to have the same issues with labs that Remy had.

End part 39.


	9. parts 40 and 41  the end

Logan worked with Remy on hand to hand, noticing that the Cajun seemed to be in a good mood this afternoon. "Nice t' see you smiling, but it won't help you keep from getting pummeled."

Remy laughed as he tried a leg-sweep, "Non, but maybe de bruises get Remy some sympathy on his date tomorrow."

"Ahhhh, that explains the smile. Since Clarrie's calling me your new dad, do I need to have a little talk with you before this date?" Logan teased.

"Remy t'ink he know how to have a good date. An' Remy know all about de birds an' bees an' how to play safe," Remy flipped out of the way, his feet lashing towards Logan's head as he moved. One heel connected with a thump, knocking Logan backwards as Remy tumbled towards the ground with a startled curse.

"Damn, you're twisty as a pretzel there, but it takes a bit more force to knock me down, and a lot more to keep me from getting back up." Logan shook his head to quiet the ringing, moving towards Remy.

"Dat's supposed to hurt you more dan me," Remy glared back at him, favoring his left foot.

"What can I say, I'm hard-headed," Logan punched at Remy, confident that Remy would be able to dodge the blow. He was trying to push the Cajun, not for skill but for endurance. If he could figure out just how long it took to wear Remy out, it would give him an idea how to adjust his training. For this spar, his goal was to keep Remy moving, with moves fast enough that Remy considered them actual efforts to attack and slow enough that Remy shouldn't get too bruised or think that he was taking it easy on him. This definitely wasn't 'taking it easy' on Remy, it was just a different sort of trial for the Cajun.

"Hard-headed like a rock," Remy grumbled, twisting away from another punch.

"Like adamantium," Logan growled as the memories tried to swim upwards. "Damn meddling scientists…"

"An' what else you do t'day, other than tryin' to leave Remy exhausted?" Remy attempted to change the subject, his face flushed from the exertion.

"I helped Hank make a couple adjustments in the Danger Room so he could run a test sequence or two on the new kid. Late teens, maybe twenty – definitely not done growing. We'll have to see how he fits in," Logan replied. He wasn't sure how much to share about Starsmore.

"What makes you so sure de new homme not done growing?" Remy looked thoughtful, but the thoughts of the new student weren't enough to prevent him from tossing a few more explosive acorns at Logan. The explosions were aimed to force Logan to move to the right.

Logan grinned at the strategy that Remy was showing. Using his abilities to herd an opponent a certain direction was a sound idea, and would probably work against most people. Logan ignored the explosions and refused to be herded, punching at Remy through the smoke. They only left small scorches on his chest and arm, little more than burns on his shirt and tiny scorch marks on his skin that were no worse than sunburns by the time the smoke cleared away. "He's got the gangly look of a teenager. Good news is that this one already knows that life isn't always fair, and that our abilities can be as big of a pain in the ass as they can be a gift."

"Dat be one way to look at dem," Remy admitted, wiping at the sweat on his face.

Logan chuckled, and kept after Remy. Remy had an excellent grounding, and he was adaptable, but there was always room to improve. Always. It wasn't enough that his almost-son be able to beat any single foe that he might encounter – though Logan wasn't ready to assume that would be possible. Any ordinary human, or ordinary thug, easily. A master of a fighting technique, someone who had spent decades of dedicated effort and focus? Not without a hell of a lot of luck, and it was a bad idea to count on luck. Even a mutant with just the wrong set of abilities could be a disaster for Remy to face. And that was before bringing in the idea of multiple opponents… Which brought him back to the simple idea that there was always room to improve.

"Was Remy at least able to stagger off to get ready for his date?" Ororo chuckled as she walked towards Logan. He'd mentioned that he wanted to improve the stamina and endurance of both of his kids, and some of his reasons. While all of his reasons were depressingly sound, she wished that the whole mess wasn't necessary. That they didn't have such a strong reason to believe that Remy and Clarice would need to be able to defend theirselves. That they wouldn't be persecuted for the way they were born.

That any children that she and Logan produced or took in wouldn't face the same dangers.

"I didn't push him to the point of collapsing," Logan protested. "It was just close enough that he thought he'd fall down."

"Was there a reason?" Ororo moved closer, sliding one arm around Logan.

"Once I know what he's capable of, I can figure out how to make him stronger, better. More prepared for the next enemy." Logan sighed, "There's always a nastier situation waiting, I don't want it to be too much for him when he finds it. Whatever it might be."

"At least you're using a gentler training program for Clarice," Ororo sighed.

"She's a bright girl, cute as a button and she gives me her all when we train, but she isn't ready for the same sort of program that Remy is. Hell, the weights could do her some damage if she took them up to a heavy weight, instead of just enough to feel the effort. She's still got little bones, and they aren't done growing. For her, I want her to build flexibility, and endurance, and to learn some basic moves. Building lifting power can come later, when she's grown. Remy's bones can handle that now, and he's more likely to get into fights and be attacked," Logan paused, considering the way that some nasty people would react to a little purple girl. An obvious mutant without the appearance of being able to defend herself. "But there's enough bullying bigots that would pick on a little kid that I want her to build some endurance, to learn to think under pressure, and to know how to defend herself and get away. Because there are some nasty pieces of slime out there that might not wait until her bones are ready for weight training."

"Dismal and depressing words," Ororo sighed, "that I wish were not so true. I will hope that you are being a bit paranoid in your goals for Clarice."

"That'd be a great thing. But I'd rather have her more prepared than she ever needs to be than to have something awful happen to her because she couldn't think on her feet, because she got tired before the people chasing her, or because she didn't know what to do against someone with a knife." Logan shook his head and stared off at the distance. "I'd like it to be the world that Charlie dreams about, one where it doesn't matter if you're peach or brown or green or blue. One where kids can be kids and don't have to worry about anything more than homework and sports practice."

"Maybe one day," Ororo whispered.

"Maybe. But today isn't that day. And I want our kids to survive to see that day," Logan murmured.

End part 40.

Remy and Clarice managed to start some of the students wondering about how they would handle a baby at the school. Remy asked a few questions about where a baby would stay, and if the baby would keep others up at night. Clarice asked questions about if Marie would need babysitters, and if anybody knew how to take care of a baby. Before long, the idea of a baby was being talked about, and Marie had plenty of people taking to her with advice, or stories about things that had happened to their friends or relatives. She had some offers to help with babysitting, and several people had found her some books about pregnancy, new babies, and other things relating to caring for infants.

As unsettling as the whole thing could be, it was much better than everyone talking about a near-death experience, or someone getting into a terrible fight. And it was better than worrying about soldiers attacking, or giant robots, or stupid legislation, especially since half the students couldn't vote yet anyhow. A few comments about 'helping each other means more than hitting an enemy' and 'there's more to life than fighting' were being passed around, with nobody thinking about where they'd started.

Ororo had a few suspicions, and decide to ask Logan herself. After catching him in the greenhouse and kissing him, of course. "Have you been listening to the rumors?"

"Enhanced hearing. Of course I know what the rumors are," he'd shrugged.

"Logan…" Her fingers trailed over his chest. "Do you forget that I talk to Remy and Clarice after your lessons?"

"There is more to life than hitting the other guy, and it's always good to be able to count on help with other situations," He paused. "Don't get me wrong, it's great to be able to call for a few more people to hit the bad guys. Or help find them to hit them. But you can't solve every problem by hitting someone else."

"Something that a few people might be surprised to hear you admit," she murmured.

"A sad but true fact. Some problems don't go away if you hit someone," Logan gave an exaggerated sigh. "Not everybody is good at everything, knows everything, or can find all the answers. If this is supposed to be a place where we can count on each other… at least, where some of us can count on each other…"

"Most of the students have stopped considering you as some sort of dangerous wild-man," Ororo narrowed her eyes and tapped his nose with her finger. "No self-pitying brooding about that from you."

"As you command, my lady of the wind and rain," he grinned at her.

"Logan…" she began to chuckle.

"Marie's going to have a baby, maybe twins if the midwife's right. Marie isn't the only person to have a bit of sex, and she's not going to be the last. Sooner or later, someone else is going to wind up pregnant. Maybe on purpose, maybe not. Shouldn't we... the school, I mean, be as ready for a baby as we are for someone attacking the building? Shouldn't it be easier to help with babies and parenthood than memory loss, obsessive scientists, and powerful men with plans?" Logan waved at the main building, "And they're happier talking about babies than the chance of giant robots or attacking soldiers."

"Annnd?" Ororo drew out the word.

"Being a parent is a lot different than fighting in a cage, or running away from home, or chasing bad guys. Different, long-term. She isn't sure what to do, where to begin. She's afraid that she'll do something wrong. I can understand every one of those fears," he admitted.

Ororo snuggled against him, and sighed, "Those are normal fears for new parents. Would you worry if I were the one expecting a child?"

"I'd be terrified," he pulled her closer, and sighed into her hair. "As it is, I feel glad that I'm not going to be the daddy of a newborn just yet, and guilty about being so glad. Biology isn't everything, but it can be scary. Ten years ago, I would be long gone instead of here in the middle of something like this. Of a school, of new babies, of someone even thinking about me being responsible for more than myself."

"Do you regret that?"

"Mmmmm. From the memories that I've got back, I'm sure that I was well past that before the adamantium. After, well… I didn't remember anything, so I had to grow up all over again. And it took a while. I'm not sure that I like the person in those memories. And I don't think he would have wound up here, with you."

"Marie won't be alone, she'll have advice and help with her babies. So will anyone else who has a baby. Maybe one day we will have our own. As for who you used to be and who you are now? I rather like the man that you've become, even if it did take you a long time to get to this point," Ororo's hand slid over the muscles of his stomach. "Good things are worth waiting for."

"She's starting to make friends. Friends mean that she won't be so desperate for someone that she'll fall for some charmer. Friends mean people to help her figure out things like babies and parenting and self-confidence. Friends will help her grow up, and it'll be less painful than the things that made me grow up this time," Logan paused, and then offered, "I heard that she'd going to be showing Starsmore around the place."

"Are you suggesting…" Ororo twisted so that she could look at him. "Marie and Mr. Starsmore?"

"All I'm sure of is that she's playing tour-guide. Who knows if they might wind up together? At least they both know that their abilities can be as much of a problem as a gift," Logan shrugged.

"That is something that not everyone understands at first. Oh, the way that others react is simple enough, but that our gifts are challenges as well as powers often escapes some people," she murmured.

For a while, they just sat in the garden, snuggled together. After a while, Logan spoke. "What about a spring wedding? Outside, in the garden with the flowers and hedges. Spring's all about new beginnings, why not have ours in the spring as well?"

"Our new beginning?" Ororo kissed him, whispering, "I like that idea."

With his arms around her, Logan decided that it was worth it. Everything that he remembered and had lost, all the challenges… they were all worth it for the chance to have a life with this woman. Ororo Munroe, his Storm, his weather-goddess. With her help, he'd carved a place for himself, started to make a family, bound by choices instead of blood. With her encouragement, he'd become a man with more than the ability to fight and keep getting back up. Logan couldn't help wondering if life had changed as much for 'Ro as things had changed for him.

But life was definitely better now.

End part 41.

End Happily After? New Beginnings.


End file.
